


Souls Lost at Sea

by deesaster



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Chess games, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mild Smut, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Soulmates, Space Husbands, T'hy'la, Telepathy, Texting via PADD, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deesaster/pseuds/deesaster
Summary: Two weeks have passed since the launch of the USSEnterprise-A, and Jim feels like a stranger on board his own ship. He can tell this is not hisEnterprise, even though everything looks exactly the same. However, it's good to be back after spending the past six months stranded on a starbase in deep space, away from his chair and the stars.It would have been manageable if the only different things had been the ship and a part of his crew. On top of his uneasiness and guilt in the aftermath of theYorktownincident, Spock has been avoiding him and Jim can't for the life of him figure out why. Even though he has come to terms with his unrequited feelings for Spock long ago, he pines for his First Officer's company more than ever, and hopes he can somehow bring their friendship back to life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This isn't beta-ed! You might find mistakes, sorry.  
> Please enjoy!
> 
> I do not own the Star Trek franchise.

 

 

 

 

> Some people are born with tornados in their lives,
> 
> but constellations in their eyes.
> 
> Other people are born with stars at their feet,
> 
> but their souls are lost at sea.

— **_Perspectives_** , Nikita Gill

 

 

* * *

 

 

His ship thrums differently.

It’s not unpleasant, but he can _tell_ that this is not his _Enterprise_ , even though his quarters look exactly the same. He’s tried to find perceptible differences, in the way his furniture is now arranged and in the replacements of his old belongings, but to no avail. These quarters are identical to his old ones, down to the smallest of details. But he _knows_.

Two weeks have passed since the launch of the USS _Enterprise-A_ , and Jim feels like a stranger on board his own ship. It’s not really unjustified and he believes he’ll get accustomed to the new ship soon enough. After all, he’s spent the last six months stranded on a Starbase in deep space, away from his chair, his console and the stars.

But that isn’t the only thing that’s making him uneasy. A quarter of his crew has been replaced in the aftermath of the _Yorktown_ incident and he hasn’t had the time to acquaint himself with the new members yet. Not that he’d actually get to know them as well as he would want, since there are ninety-six of them. But he’s always liked to personally know the people he works with. Of course, he handpicked them himself from the ‘Fleet’s best when the time came to put his crew back together, but nothing compares to the old-fashioned handshake and the cheerful ‘how do you do?’.

It doesn’t help that he feels overwhelmed by guilt, since most of his new crew members are on board right now because he couldn’t protect and save the previous ones. He also wasn’t surprised when some spots had to be filled because of transfer requests. Life on the ‘Fleet’s flagship is not for the faint of heart. If wearing a redshirt doesn’t get you, surely trauma will.

But it’s good to see the stars again. What he felt when he sat in the chair again and the _Enterprise-A_ took off at warp speed for the very first time, the elation and the relief, cannot possibly be compared to the moroseness he felt when he stepped foot onto _Yorktown_ six months ago, before Krall took down his ship. He’s ashamed now, as he remembers how he saw tedious routine in the only thing that’s ever generated sparks in his heart.

He’s started the remainder of the five-year mission with newfound energy and passion, and he’s thankful for the time he’s spent on _Yorktown_ , as the _Enterprise-A_ was being built. Starfleet offered temporary positions to his crew, apart from well-deserved extended shore leave time, integrating them on the Starbase until the ship was ready. Jim chose to teach a course on the command track at the Academy as a guest lecturer, and he’s found the time spent in the company of brilliant, young minds most refreshing. He was reminded what it means to be young, imaginative and reckless. It was like a breath of fresh air.

So what if his road is sometimes paved with uneventful diplomatic missions and he spends some days just crossing black, starless void? _He wants to get back out there._ And somehow, those people who looked up to him and wanted to be like him have inspired him to make the most out of the time left in his mission.

Because he knows what to expect when the _Enterprise-A_ will dock at Starbase 1, in less than two years’ time. The flag officers of the ‘Fleet and the Federation will offer their acclaims and congratulations. They’ll be showered with attention from the press, coming from all corners of the Alpha Quadrant. All members of his crew will receive promotions and future work offers from Starfleet. Including himself. He’ll become a flag officer. A commodore, or an admiral. He couldn’t care less which of the two.

Everyone knows flag officers don’t get to command a starship. They’ll take her away from him in two years and he won’t even get used to her properly. There were still nooks and curves of the original _Enterprise_ he didn’t get to know, and while the _Enterprise-A_ is supposed to be its identical counterpart, Jim knows it’s a completely different ship, a strange silver lady he won’t get the chance to cherish for long.

And what is Jim Kirk without his ship? He’s no one, he’s just a golden boy who wanted to touch the stars, a boy with his feet stuck in the dirt of a planet he’s never really considered a home.

But he knows his ship will be left in capable hands. Mr. Spock is long overdue for a well-deserved promotion himself and perhaps he’ll do a better job than Jim in the command chair. Or he’ll show an unexpected speck of Vulcan loyalty Jim knows he has hidden in that apparent soulless chest of his, and he’ll refuse to command a ship that once belonged to his own Captain, retiring from command as well to join Jim in the unfulfilling prison that is Federation bureaucracy.

He can’t imagine Spock in a command team with someone who isn’t him. They’re Starfleet’s best, Spock has admitted so himself. No one else should have the right to have Spock, as their Captain or XO, no one else besides him. It would be an insult to both of them.

He can’t believe he almost left the _Enterprise_ and suggested Spock as her captain. It could’ve easily been the greatest mistake of his life. He’s glad Spock doesn’t know anything about that dark hour of his.

Or maybe they’ll let him be a captain and they won’t take his ship away. And maybe Spock will refuse captaincy as well, since he’s never shown interest in it. And they’ll continue to be the best command team in the ‘Fleet, they’ll get to keep most, if not all, of their bridge crew and they’ll get another lengthy mission in deep space…

He’s allowed to dream.

He smiles, even though his ship—no, theirs, _his and Spock’s_ —thrums differently.

Speaking of his pointy-eared First Officer, they’ve fallen out of touch during their time on _Yorktown_. While he’s been busy motivating the next generation and steering cadets towards command, Spock’s been working at the research facilities, conducting some complicated experiments and simulations on unique patterns in gravitational fields. Spock had tried explaining to him in detail what his work exactly focuses on, but Jim couldn’t really follow him for long.

He’s happy that his XO spent his time doing something he enjoys, though. Spock kept repeating the word ‘fascinating’, and if Jim has learned something about him in those four years they’ve know each other, is that when Spock says ‘fascinating’, it means he’s totally excited and captivated by whatever’s caught his attention.

During the first few days of their onshore assignments, they had managed to synchronize their schedules somehow and they often had lunch or dinner together, like they used to on the _Enterprise_ , but soon enough, their meetings had started to be few and far between. They’d meet once a week, or twice if they were lucky, to catch up on the ship’s progress, and their meetings would often be cut short by one (or on one occasion, both) of their communicators beeping, calling them back to their duties.

It was weird, seeing Spock so rarely out of a sudden, when for three years they used to spend not only the daily eight-hour Alpha shift and sometimes portions of the Beta and Gamma shifts when neither of them could sleep, but also most of their off-duty time together. Spock once said, entertaining Jim when he teasingly asked if Spock keeps track of their time together, that they spend about 81.72 percent of their awake time together. Jim laughed and joked that they should also share living quarters, so they’d bring that percentage closer to one hundred. ‘That would be illogical, Captain,’ Spock deadpanned and Jim laughed again.

He eventually learned to live with the void Spock left in his onshore life, and when he wasn’t at the Academy, he pestered Bones at the Medicenter. The Georgian doctor pretended he didn’t care much for Jim’s presence in his infirmaries, but Jim’s sure that Bones felt as lonely as he did on _Yorktown_.

When Bones was unavailable, Jim beamed on board of his new ship, to assist Scotty with testing or installing, or whatever needed to be done in order to get the _Enterprise-A_ in space as soon as possible.

Scotty is completely in love with the new ship and he worked like a madman at its construction. Jim is willing to bet his Captain’s stripes that without Scotty, they’d still be at the spacedock, waiting for another six months for the ship to be ready for her maiden voyage.

He silently thanks his Chief Engineer for the umpteenth time for getting them all off _Yorktown_ in record time. While the Starbase is a technological wonder, and an amazing location for shore leave, he’s sure that he’s not the only one on board who’s incredibly happy to be back in space.

He stands up from his terminal, having just sent the last completed report of the day to HQ. It’s been an uneventful day, but since they’re navigating through an uncharted cluster of stars, his vigilance was needed on the bridge for the entirety of his shift. His shoulders are tense and he tries to release some of the knots himself, twisting his body to reach them and wincing in pain.

This is one of the things he hates about being Captain. He used to dump the paperwork on Spock sometimes, since he’s definitely more efficient and doesn’t seem bothered by it. Hell, he didn’t even have to ask sometimes, Spock would offer to take the workload himself and Jim would thank him over and over for giving him the opportunity to get some sleep.

But now, since they’ve drifted apart in the past months, he feels kind of awkward around him, even though he’s glad to have Spock back. Asking Spock directly to help him with the reports or even insinuating he’d appreciate some help seems weird at this stage.

He’s been trying to get back in touch with Spock, of course he has. He misses their chess matches, the enjoyable conversations, their meals and coffee breaks in the officers’ mess hall, and their sparring sessions in the gym. They’ve had none of those since their voyage has been resumed, and Jim can’t blame himself for it. Spock has declined multiple of both his subtle and or not so subtle invitations, and Jim has reached the conclusion that he’s the only one who wants to rekindle their friendship.

He furrows his eyebrows and bites on his bottom lip, weighing his options for the night. The chronometer on his wall indicates that the ship’s time is 2031. It’s too early for him to go to bed, he’s already paid Bones a visit in the Sickbay and the doctor regrettably was busy with some physical examinations, he’s already eaten and he’s officially off-duty. He groans and lets himself fall back-first on the bed with a thud, shrugging off his boots.

He’s already reached out to Spock once today, on the bridge. Asking him, ‘Spock, would you care to join me for dinner in the mess hall after the shift ends?’ just earned Kirk a noncommittal ‘my apologies, Captain, but my presence is required in the science labs immediately afterwards’. It made Jim think that his friend is avoiding him, since it’s the fifth time this week that Spock’s played the ‘my presence is required elsewhere’ card.

He stares at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the refitted warp core that’s propelling them through parsecs of uncharted space.

Why would Spock avoid him? Nothing has changed between them, apart from the fact that they’ve grown apart, something that Jim considers to be quite easy to fix, anyway. They just need to spend time together, like they used to before. If only Spock would show interest in that, too.

Damn it, he’s doing this.

He reaches out for his PADD that’s lying on the bedside table. Phrasing the message in his head, he taps his fingers on the cold, smooth surface for the better part of a minute. When he finally opens the device, he pulls up a draft of another message he wrote last night, a message he never intended to send to his XO. 

> _Spock, I miss you. Please stop avoiding me?_

He erases it, cringing at how needy the message sounds. He snorts, thinking what it would’ve been like if he accidentally pressed ‘send’ instead of erasing the message. He shakes his head.

He leaves only the ‘ _Spock,’_ in the draft. The I-beam pointer blinks too quickly, taunting him. He breathes in sharply, deleting the name too.

> _Commander, are you available for_

No, it doesn’t sound like something he would send. He presses the tip of the stylus hard on the display, erasing the poorly-phrased beginning.

> _Spock. Chess. Tonight. Please._

He groans and holds the stylus on the digital backspace key until the words disappear, then he brings the thin instrument to his face, tapping it against his lips until inspiration strikes him.

> _Spock, would you like to meet for a game of chess this evening? –JTK_

Satisfied with the text, he presses send and jumps off the bed when he receives confirmation that his message has been delivered. He leaves the PADD on the bed, knowing that he’ll hear it chime if—no, _when_ —Spock answers.

He enters the bathroom he shares with his XO, wondering if Spock is on the other side of the door which opens to his quarters. Carding his fingers through his hair and watching his reflection in the Starfleet-issue mirror, he decides to take a sonic shower while he waits for Spock’s reply.

He misses the old-fashioned water-and-soap showers he used to take on Earth as a kid, but he’s got to admit that the sonic shower is much more convenient. He’s out in less than three minutes, and’s glad he doesn’t have to dry himself because the first thing he does when he exits the bathroom is to check his PADD. The towel he wrapped around his waist almost falls in his hurry to grab the device when he sees the screen blinking, letting him know he has an unread message.

> _I am amenable to the suggestion. Is a meeting at 2100 in my personal quarters acceptable? I shall provide refreshments. –CMDR Spock_

Jim doesn’t pump his fist in the air. But he does check the time. 2043, the chronometer shows. Smiling, he writes a quick reply, assuring Spock he’d be there. Ha! That was simple. Maybe Spock has really been busy all along. It was stupid of him to think his friend would avoid him.

He spends the next five minutes trying to decide what to wear. He’s never truly paid attention to what he wears when he and Spock hang out and he doesn’t know why he cares so much now. He hesitates, eyeing a pair of civilian jeans and a bunch of variously colored plain t-shirts, buried deep inside his wardrobe under his spare uniform pieces, before putting today’s uniform he’d just discarded back on. Better play his cards close to his chest. Wearing civilian clothing during their first strictly social encounter since they’ve been back seems a little too… casual. Spock will have his uniform on too anyway, he bets. He’s rarely seen the Vulcan wear anything else on board.

Until the chronometer shows 2059, he sits at his terminal and goes through his unread communications with disinterest, sorting the messages. He feels jittery when the time comes to turn off the screen and to exit his quarters.

During the previous three years on the _Enterprise_ , he’d developed a habit of knocking at Spock’s bathroom door whenever they wanted to spend time together. Shortly after Jim began doing it, Spock followed his example and it wordlessly became a frequent thing they did. Not even announcing themselves beforehand through a comm, or a PADD message, but simply knocking and opening their doors to each other. Sometimes, they even let those doors open if they had arranged to meet before. It was simpler, more intimate and it represented a trait of their friendship.

Now, entering Spock’s new quarters through the bathroom door seems like an intrusion on his privacy, a gesture that would be unwelcome.

The door to his quarters closes automatically behind him with a quiet _whoosh_ , and he steps into the deserted hallway. Spock’s quarters are just a few meters away from his and it takes him just a few seconds to close the distance between him and his door.

He hesitates before pressing the comm button on the wall, announcing his presence to the Vulcan. Bringing his hands behind his back, he straightens up, adopting his typical captain’s posture and chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for Spock to open the door.

“Spock! Great to see you!” he can’t help exclaiming once the door swooshes open and he’s met with the sight of the Vulcan’s slender body clad, as he expected, in the science blues.

“Good evening, Captain. You have last seen me 4.73 hours ago when the Alpha shift concluded, and therefore I fail to understand why seeing me again so shortly after an eight-hour shift would elicit such enthusiasm on your part,” Spock says, voice betraying a hint of amusement only Jim would be able to pick up.

Jim gives him a toothy grin, seeking to meet his friend’s chocolate-colored eyes. “Seeing you brightens my evening nonetheless, Mr. Spock. And for the hundredth time, it’s Jim. We’re off-duty.”

He bounces on the balls of his feet, trying to remember the last time he had to remind Spock to address him by his first name when they aren’t on duty. Somewhere around the end of the first six months of their mission, when they first started to play chess regularly, would be his best guess. His grin dims visibly.

“Very well, Jim,” Spock gives in, inclining his head in his direction without making his perfect bangs fall out of place, through God knows what kind of Vulcan miracle. He moves aside, wordlessly telling Jim to come inside with an elegant gesture of his wrist.

The high temperature of Spock’s quarters almost makes him wish he’d chose one of plain, short-sleeved t-shirts. He’d forgotten how his XO prefers to keep his room’s temperature above average, due to his Vulcan biology. He himself used to often turn it up for Spock whenever they played chess in his quarters, thinking of how white his fingers and ears turned when he spent too much time on the air-conditioned bridge, instead of keeping their healthy green tint.

Nobody else seemed to notice it and during the first weeks of their mission, he tempered with the bridge’s environmental control system when no one was looking, raising the temperature by a few degrees for the sake of his First Officer. His bridge crew didn’t seem to notice, and even though Spock never said anything about it to him, Jim knows he appreciated it.

He makes a mental note to do so again the first thing tomorrow morning, swearing under his breath for not remembering to do it before.

Jim remembers, however, the Starfleet standard-issue coffee table in the center of the room. They’ve played countless chess games on it. He smiles fondly, seeing that Spock has made an effort to play host. He’s familiar with the set-up: two cushions on the either sides of the low table, a replicated dish of fruit on it, along with two glasses of iced Vulcan tea and an already arranged chess board. Something inside Jim’s chest tugs pleasantly. Maybe things will get back to normal sooner than he thought.

“However, you will have to excuse me at some point this evening. I am only available for 74.2 minutes, until one of my experiments finishes processing in the laboratory. When it is done, it will require my immediate attention,” Spock says as he closes the door.

This isn’t the first time this happens. Lots of Spock’s experiments have processed during their chess games. Jim nods understandingly. “That's not a problem. I believe we’ve got more than enough time for a game.”

“Indeed,” Spock replies with simplicity.

They both lower themselves on the cushions in front of opposite sides of the table, folding their legs. Spock rigidly places his legs under him, knees touching and back straight, while Jim assumes a casual, cross-legged position. Without further ado, Spock begins the game, since he’s chosen the side with the white pieces.

“So, what’s your experiment about?” Jim asks, eager to make conversation while he mirrors Spock’s first move with one of his own pawns.

“The ship’s artificial gravity generators,” Spock replies promptly, bringing out one of his knights from behind the line of pawns. “If my calculations are correct and the experiment is successful, I believe that I will be able to augment the resistance of the ship’s gravity plates and increase the stability of the main and auxiliary artificial gravity generators by 13.7 percent, while also lowering the risk of the systems failing in various crisis scenarios by approximately 8.1 percent.”

Jim whistles, genuinely impressed, while moving one piece on the board himself. He knows Spock’s calculations are correct already. They are never wrong.  “How did you even come up with that?” he asks out of curiosity, but also hoping to keep Spock talking. Maybe they’ll avoid the awkward silence he fears so much.

“The research facilities on Starbase _Yorktown_ offered countless possibilities in the range of the projects I was invited to involve myself in. I only expressed interest in the ones which would ultimately benefit the ship in the future, should my expertise be expanded. My attention was directed towards a set of simulations based on the Starbase’s gravity, which have inspired me to verify the _Enterprise-A_ ’s systems for a subroutine that would allow me to conduct a simulation similar to those I have witnessed on _Yorktown_. With the much-appreciated help of Mr. Scott, the subroutine was located and when the experiment finishes processing, it will allow the addition of the calculated enhancements.”

“Color me impressed, Spock! Do let me know if your experiment is successful,” Jim says, shooting him his trademark smile. He’s missed the Vulcan’s smooth voice.

He takes a sip of tea, finding relief in the coolness of the liquid. He has begun to sweat and he hopes Spock won’t notice.

“I shall endeavor to do so,” Spock assures him, on a milder tone of his voice than usual.

Silence settles between them and Jim doesn’t find it awkward at all, to his surprise. They make no other attempt at conversation, choosing to focus their attention on the tri-dimensional board. Time passes pleasantly. Spock is winning and Jim is making it easier for him than it should be. He’s out of shape and he’s losing gracelessly, but he feels no frustration. He’s just happy to have his best friend back.

He makes a rather bold move on the board and rests his chin against his fist, placing his elbow on the table and looking at Spock to see his reaction. He sees none. Spock doesn’t even remove his eyes from the board to lock eyes with him, so Jim continues to observe him freely. There is a slight crease between his beautifully angled brows, one that Jim has seen before when Spock is in deep concentration. He bites his lips to stop himself from smiling. His eyes follow the tight line of Spock’s lips, the sharp, green-tinted cheekbones, the elegant curves of his pointed ears.

It’s hardly the first time he notices Spock’s exotic beauty. While Jim is mostly attracted to females, his exploits have involved a male or two. Fine, maybe more than one or two, but that doesn’t matter. He’s not ashamed to admit to himself that he’s attracted to Spock. He’s ogled him shamelessly, from the first time he saw the Vulcan at the Academy. He’s _always_ been attracted to Spock, from every point of view possible. Socially, mentally, physically, and most curiously, romantically, too.

It’s just that… oh, well. For the entirety of the time Jim has known Spock, the Vulcan hasn’t really been single. He’s always been with Uhura. Four years and counting, in spite of the fact that they’ve had major fights that made them break up twice. So, Jim has never even thought about the possibility. He wants, he _yearns_ , even, but he knows it’s not going to happen.

There was nothing left for him to do but suppress his attraction, never act on it, and hope it will pass. But his heart has never stopped thumping when he’s around Spock. And it’s not some crazy reaction his body has because of Spock’s undeniable sexiness. It’s more than that.

He loves Spock. He loves _everything_ about him: his intelligence, his physical traits, his speech pattern, his passion for science, even his almost-absent sense of humor. He’s in love with his best friend, truly and irrevocably. It’s as simple as that.

Sure, he’s suffered in the beginning, seeing Spock with Uhura together and having the Vulcan treat him like scum when they didn’t know each other well. Hell, it hurt more than anything he’s ever felt, knowing he’ll never get a shot at showing Spock how much Jim would love and cherish him if the Vulcan gave him a chance. Because A, Spock’s heterosexual, B, he’d never see Jim that way and C, he’s with Uhura anyway. However, he’s learned to live with it and he has admirably done so for the past four years.

He’s never let it interfere with his captaincy. Those feelings for Spock were tightly bound, locked away in a completely separate drawer in Jim’s head. No, in an entire wall of cabinets. A drawer could never contain all his feelings. There were many times when he wished he could open that door and let them all out, but he slapped himself on the wrist every time he thought of it, reminding himself that it’d ruin everything he’s worked so hard for. Including his ship and his friendship with Spock.

It got better with time, though. He tried moving on, but it didn’t work out for him. He’s slept with dozens of people, both human and alien, experimenting with his sexuality in every possible way, but never getting emotionally attached to anyone. That’s not unusual for him though, since there wasn’t a ‘before Spock’ and he’s pretty sure there won’t be an ‘after Spock’ either.

He doesn’t even remember when he realized what he feels for Spock. It’s kind of always _been_ there. One day, as they were on some petty mission like the one they had before they dealt with Khan, he raised his head from his console, looked at the Science station and met Spock’s eyes in the briefest of locks. It was enough. _‘I’m in love with that gorgeous being over there,’_ his mind had supplied. And he wasn’t even surprised by that life-changing thought.

Life went on. He’s not pining like a fool for Spock, at least not in the desperate way he used to. He knows better. His friendship with Spock is one of the most precious things in his life, maybe even _the_ most, and he’s never considered jeopardizing it by doing something stupid. He’ll keep quiet, maybe for the rest of his life if he has to.

Because this isn’t some petty, passing crush. Spock’s _it_ for him. _He loves_ _Spock_.

And Spock can never know. _No one_ can ever know. Not even Bones, or Scotty, or Sulu, or Chekov or God forbid, Uhura. Spock will never love him back that way, he’s come to terms with it. There’s no point in telling anyone, no matter what miraculous piece of advice they’d think they could give him. He just hopes to continue being Spock’s friend. It’s enough. Or so he pretends.

So instead of listening to that voice inside his head telling him to ask Spock if he’s been avoiding him, he keeps quiet. It’s taken them both enough time to get back here and he’s not about to ruin everything by asking, ‘hey Spock, would you be a doll and tell me why you’ve been acting so strange lately, even though I’m pretty sure you’ll go in full-Vulcan mode and you’ll definitely avoid me then if you weren’t before?’

Their game is coming to an end. It’s only a few moves until Spock will put him in check, then maybe five or six more until he wins. Jim knows something is wrong. Spock may have agreed to this game, but he’s clearly distant. Well, more distant than usual, if possible. He’s pretty sure that ‘distant Vulcan’ is a pleonasm. Spock has warmed up to him in the past years, but tonight, his First Officer won’t even make eye contact with him.

He swallows, hard. Here goes nothing.

“Hey, Spock? Thanks for having me tonight. I mean, with the new ship, the experiments and you and Uhura being back together, I can see you’ve been busy—”

“You have no reason to express gratitude. However, I believe you were aware that Lieutenant Uhura and I terminated our relationship 9.48 months ago,” Spock interrupts him and finally meets his eyes.

Jim has never cared for all that mushy crap in flick-chicks or cheap romance novels when the two protagonists make eye contact and it feels like the world stops, sparks flying and everything. But if he were to compare this moment to that nonsense, he’d be the only one who’s love-struck, because Spock’s eyes are nothing but analytical and void of emotion. As usual. But damn it, they’re beautiful. Way to distract himself from the information that Spock has just dumped on him.

“Oh,” is all Jim can say, blinking slowly. His reaction is short-lived though, once he remembers something. He frowns. “But I saw you guys together in the mess hall today. And yesterday. The whole week, actually.”

“We decided to part ways amicably. Nyota has remained my friend,” the Vulcan explains calmly, almost too quickly.

Jim can’t do anything but accept the topic change. He bites.

“But after the _Yorktown_ incident, it seemed like you got back together. Everyone thought so. Why didn’t you tell me you guys broke up for good?”

“I have, in fact, informed you, 9.48 months ago. I have had no intention of resuming our relationship since, and neither has she. The _Yorktown_ incident simply made us both realize there is no point in ending our friendship as well, so we have decided to continue to engage socially.”

Meaning, Spock has time for his ex, who’s suddenly his newest best friend, but he doesn’t have time for Jim, the guy who’s allegedly his best friend for the better part of the last four years. Stings a bit.

He remembers Spock telling him about his break-up. He had noticed Spock looking stiffer than his usual self one evening, while quietly enjoying each other’s presence without exactly doing anything remarkable. Jim himself had already started to feel glum and to lose his sense of purpose at the time, detesting the routine and the dreary duties that come with the chair. Spock didn’t know about that and he didn’t notice, probably buried neck-deep in his own troubles. It’s not as if Jim was being obvious, anyway.

It had been one of those rare moments of straight-forward honesty, because Spock spilled the beans without Jim pressuring him like he usually has to when he wants to obtain personal information from him. It’s like pulling teeth, usually. He has to phrase his questions right in order to coax a proper reply out of Spock. That time, their conversation had flowed easier than usual.

 _‘Spock, has something happened?’_ was the only question he had to ask.

 _‘Nyota and I are no longer involved romantically,’_ came Spock’s calm, immediate reply.

As simple as that. _‘Would you like to talk about it?’_ Jim asked, after a long period of silence. Spock’s reply was serene. _‘Negative.’_

He never asked what the reason of their break-up was. Rumor had it around the ship that Spock couldn’t commit to her emotionally. That she wanted more from him and he couldn’t give her that. Apparently, according to lonely, gossipy female crewmembers, being in a relationship with a Vulcan who publicly denies having feelings might do things to a girl. He didn’t speculate or listen, and he didn’t start hoping.

And so, his senior Communications Officer and his First had started avoided each other when possible and he didn’t meddle, even though both of them clearly seemed unhappy. But then, _Yorktown_ happened and everyone thought that Spock and Uhura were an item again. Who wouldn’t have thought that, when they spend so much time together and they have so much history?

He swallows, again. “I’m happy you guys got past it.” He doesn’t sound happy, but he hopes Spock won’t pick up on that.

Spock just nods once.

It’s not the way he would’ve wanted this conversation to go. If anything, it kind of makes it all worse.

He would have understood if they’d been back together, but the fact that Spock spends more time with Uhura in this context means that he’s not Spock’s preferred choice of friend.

Still, he’s beginning to win him back. It’s not like he’s jealous of Uhura, heck, they’re all friends and spend plenty of time together anyway on the bridge. It’s not a battle. But he does want more time alone with Spock. He wants things to be like they were before he got depressed, before _Yorktown_. This evening is a promising start.

“Checkmate,” Spock’s voice draws his attention back to the board.

Tilting his head back to see the board better, Jim sighs in defeat. “Huh. I should’ve seen that coming.” And he would’ve, if he had paid more attention to the game instead of focusing on Spock’s face and obsessing over his and Uhura’s relationship.

“My experiment will finish processing in 6.8 minutes, therefore I regretfully must put an end to our interaction. However, I am open to a rematch, should you request one,” Spock says, straightening his back and placing his hands on his knees. He looks Jim in the eye again.

“I’d love a rematch,” Jim quickly says, grinning. He would’ve asked for one himself, but he’s happy that Spock had the initiative. He stands up and stretches his legs, watching Spock do the same thing, only more graciously than he ever could. “Tomorrow evening, same time, my quarters?”

“It is acceptable,” Spock replies promptly.

“Thanks for having me, really. It felt good to, y’know, spend an evening like we used to.”

Spock’s eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. “I do not understand, Captain.”

Oh, not only did his poor attempt at hinting what he wants fail, but it also earned him a stinging ‘Captain’. He struggles to keep his smile on. “Never mind, Commander. Best of luck with your experiment.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Spock says, a hint of appreciation in his voice.

Spock presses the button to open the door for them both, allowing Jim to step out first. The door closes behind them. As Jim approaches his own door and presses his thumb on the fingerprint scanner, Spock stands still in the hallway, instead of making his way to the laboratory, head tilted as if he ponders on something.

“Jim?” he asks, stopping Jim from entering his quarters.

Jim turns his head back, trying not to let any feeling of hopefulness surface. “Yeah?”

“I shall see you in the mess hall tomorrow morning, before the Alpha shift.”

Jim smiles, somewhat confused by Spock’s strange statement. They always see each other in the mess hall in the morning, anyway. That had no need to be mentioned. Was that Spock’s attempt at asking him to have breakfast together? It felt somewhat like an invitation, in Spock terms. He does miss their meals together. Maybe Spock feels the same and caught on the hints he’s been dropping.

“Of course,” he says, putting on that smile he only reserves for the Vulcan. “G’night, Spock.” And he enters his quarters, beginning to feel true contentment for the first time in the last six months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed it, and please drop a line or two in the comments if you feel like it :) Stay tuned for the next chapters!


	2. Chapter 2

Jim toys with the glass of brandy, balancing it back and forth on the Starfleet issue coaster. He stares at the honey-colored liquid swishing around, ice clinking against the glass.

He takes a swig out of it and places it back down. It’s been a tough day. He’s just finished a fourteen-hour shift and his head is buzzing with tiredness. His chronometer shows 2237, and all he’d done since 0800 hours up until a few minutes ago was to sit all tensed up in his chair, while Sulu and Chekov slowly steered his ship through a supernova remnant.

Their sensors had been thrown off by the shockwaves that would occasionally shake the ship to her very core and they were left to navigate through the debris-filled cloud almost blindly.

If he closes his eyes, he can still see the monotonous yellow blinking of the bridge’s lights as the yellow alert was on. The only thing that kept him sane through the shift was Spock standing at his right side when his own station didn’t require his attention. They’d lock eyes from time to time and wordlessly reassure each other that it would soon be over.

And it came to an end eventually, after almost thirteen hours of constant vigilance.

They were supposed to play chess again tonight. It’s been three days since that first game and Jim is beginning to believe that things can go back to how they were before. They’re having most of their meals together, just like they used to, and they’ve played two more chess games. It’s obviously improving their efficiency on the bridge. Spock himself has trivially pointed out that their efficiency levels had gone up by four-point-something percent this week, but without making any connection to their rekindling friendship.

However, Spock is still distant, and apart from that slightly weird invitation at breakfast from three evenings ago, which was more of an observation, Spock hasn’t made any attempt to make them spend more time together. He just passively agrees when Jim suggests they play chess or share a table in the mess hall. 

It doesn’t bother Jim all that much. Spock’s been like that when they became friends at the start of the mission, until he warmed up to Jim. Maybe they just need more time to get reacquainted.

He picks up his PADD from his nightstand.

> _Rain check on that game, Commander? –JTK_

The reply comes in less than two minutes after he sends the message.

> _Assuming that you are not, in fact, referring to precipitation caused by atmospheric condensation spontaneously occurring on board of our ship, Captain, I am as well of the opinion that it would be best to postpone our planned social engagement.  –CMDR Spock_

Jim chuckles. He’s really, _really_ missed this.

> _All right, we’ll talk about it tomorrow morning. Get some rest, Spock. That’s an order. Today’s been stressful for all of us. –JTK_

He stretches his back until he hears his spine pop, then he collapses on the bed, too tired to even take off his uniform.

> _I could say the very same to you, Captain. I wish you a pleasant evening. –CMDR Spock_
> 
> _Thanks, Spock. Likewise. –JTK_

He’s on the verge of falling asleep when the system chimes, informing him there’s someone at the door. He groans. “Computer, identify visitor.”

“Dr. McCoy, Leonard H., Chief Medical Officer,” the smooth female robot voice replies promptly.

“Computer, open doors,” he says, and gets up. The bottle of brandy is still on his desk, and he pulls out an additional glass from a cabinet, as his friend steps into his quarters.

“Boy, do you know my poison,” Leonard says, reaching out for the glass once Jim pours the drink for him.

“You’re the one who brought it over one evening and left it here. Said you’re ‘a doctor, not a bartender’ and I shouldn’t keep coming to your bay to get hammered after a long shift, remember?”

Leonard snorts. “Who’s the bartender now?” He gulps his drink down and then crashes into Jim’s desk chair. “Might need another one,” he adds, holding out his glass. “With some ice this time?”

Jim rolls his eyes, but complies and pours again, fetching some ice from the replicator. He tries his best not to sound rude, but he’s tired and he’s already had some to drink.

“Look, Bones, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you coming over for a chat, but I’ve had _the longest_ day and—”

Leonard takes a sip before interrupting him. “Jim, you might wanna sit down for this.”

Jim stiffens. “Did something happen?” Is it Spock? No, he’s just texted him. Is it the ship? Scotty would’ve commed him or—

“No, no, everything’s fine. Peachy, even,” Bones shrugs, rotating the wrist of the hand holding his drink and staring at the liquid swirling. “Don’t you want some?”

“Then wha—No, I’ve already had a glass. Bones, what’s wrong?”

“Sit down, Jim.”

And Jim perches himself on the side of the bed, back straightened. Bones’ weird behaviour has put him in captain mode. “Will you just tell me? Seriously now, you’re scaring me.”

“I would’ve waited until tomorrow, but I could barely hold myself back today. You can thank that shiny dangerous cloud of yours for keeping your ass occupied. You see, some green-feathered little bird came to see me last evening and told me something _very_ interesting,” Bones says, taking another sip of brandy.

Jim freezes. Does Spock _know_ and told Bones? He can’t possibly know—no, no, he’s been careful and kept his distance, he hasn’t touched Spock since the Vulcan grabbed him back on _Yorktown_ and saved him from being sucked into space, so he can’t have found out through his touch telepathy, that’s not it—

“Apparently, this precious birdie wanted to know if I happened to be aware of our beloved Captain’s application for vice-admiralty, some six months ago. Had me chokin’ on my scotch. Imagine my surprise, when this lil’ critter, let’s call him Spock, tells me that Commodore Paris had him over for a chat just before we launched, and told him to keep an eye out for our Captain, ‘cause he kind of wanted to dump the _Enterprise_. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!”

It’s worse than what Jim imagined. He winces. He’d hoped Bones would never find out about that. And by the looks of it, that would have probably been for the best. Bones is beginning to resemble a fire-breathing dragon, and since he’s already been on the receiving end of this particular type of his fury a couple of times, he can tell that this evening won’t end well.

“Bones, I’m really not in any state to talk about that right now—”

“I’m not done. Spock thought, that as your doctor and close friend, I should know about this. And the wackadoodle is right. You usually run stupid stunts like these by me. Way to make me feel like we’re friends--you were about to leave me on this metal danger magnet, stuck with that green-blooded devil!”

Jim winces again. This evening is just getting worse and worse by the minute.

“Listen, don’t know what was floatin’ inside that thick skull of yours that had you wantin’ to abandon the only good things in your life just ‘cause you got a little bored. Boy, thank your every lucky star that you came back to your senses and I didn’t have to come drag you back on board and kick the tar out of ya, ‘cause, Jim, I’m tellin’ ya, you goddamn rascal, it wouldn’t’ve been pretty.”

“Bones, I’m sorry for not telling you, but—”

Leonard puts his hand up, interrupting him once more. “Honestly, Jim, if you’d told me earlier, I might’ve been able to help you. You know you can’t do this on your own, that’s why you got Spock and me.

“However, if you’ve put all of this messed-up crap behind you, then so can I. Now that we’ve set this straight, there’s something you need to know. I didn’t come here tonight just to kick you in the shin for wantin’ to leave the ship.

“I know you’ve been complaining about the hobgoblin and how he’s been avoiding you. From what I could tell, he’s mad at you in his own way for putting forward that request. And I don’t blame him, I’m just as mad, believe me. But Jim, if that’s the reason he’s been avoiding you, then he has no right to give you hell for it.”

Jim tilts his head back in confusion. “What?”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but since he knows about yours, I might as well let you know about his. Seems about fair,” Leonard continues, voice much calmer than before.

“Bones, I’m not following you,” Jim deadpans, a blank expression on his face.

“Spock wanted out, too.”

“Out? What do you mean, out?”

“Out of here.”

Jim just continues to stare expressionlessly at him, more perplexed than ever.

“Not here _here_ , you dolt. The whole here,” Leonard adds, gesturing at the walls and ceiling with one hand and using the other to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Bones. _You’re not making any sense.”_

Leonard sighs loudly in frustration and mutters some Southern curse under his breath. He shudders with every fiber of his being before clarifying, as if he would rather not imagine what he’s about to say.

“He wanted to leave the Enterprise too. Wanted to be off to New Vulcan, to make babies, and kept on blathering about this duty to his species. That’s why Uhura and he broke up. But then he found out his counterpart died, then well, he still wanted to leave, so he could continue his work there.”

“What? He told you that himself?”

Leonard nods. “When we were stranded on Altamid. No idea what’s changed his mind since then, but we’re damn lucky to have his computer ass on board, as much as I hate to admit it.”

Jim puts his head in his hands, the information starting to slowly sink in. Leonard raises an eyebrow at him and finishes his drink.

“Can’t believe him…” Jim mumbles to himself.

“Hey, if you ever move past the ‘completely shocked and kinda wanting to strangle him to death’ bit, a phrase, mind you, I’ve been through in both your cases, you’ll find it kind of funny.”

“Funny? In what world would Spock leaving Starfleet be funny?”

“Well, in no world, but if you take into account the fact that he changed his mind, much like you did, it is. Look at it this way, you both wanted out, neither told the other, but you both stayed in the end. I’m willing to bet my last credit that Starfleet has never seen a better command team. Look at you, all synced up and everything! The only thing missing from this thing of yours is friendship bracelets. If you ever consider it though, God forbid, please leave me out of it.”

“I wish I was laughing, Bones, but you understand why I really joke about this right now.” He stands up and starts pacing around the room.

“Sorry, kid.”

There is a long pause in their exchange, Jim continuing to pace and Leonard pouring brandy for them both. The doctor holds out one of the glasses. “Bet you want some now, eh?”

Jim takes it without hesitation and gulps it down. Then he looks at Leonard, piercing him with a long stare, as if he’s just realized something. He frowns softly.

“Thanks, Bones. You’re a good friend,” he says quietly, and he isn’t referring just to the drink.

Leonard shrugs. “Thought I’d be. Unlike you and Pointy-Ears. I’d never dare to leave either of you out here and let you have all the fun.”

“Bones…”

“Fine, no guilt-tripping. But don’t you go thinkin’ that you’re off the hook. Look, I’ll leave you be for now and we’ll talk it about it later, but Jim, you know you can come to me when it all becomes too much, right? I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you, kid, and that ain’t ever gonna change. I’m always gonna be on your side.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Bones,” Jim says tiredly, scrubbing a hand across his face. He is grateful for what Leonard has shared with him, but he can’t deny that he’s also starting to feel guilty for not talking that application over with Bones. The doctor did have a right to know. 

“All right, you said that already, dunderhead. Catch some sleep and don’t do anything stupid tonight,” he warns Jim and gets up from the chair, heading for the door. “Put yourself in Spock’s place and if you think about confronting him, don’t act like a stubborn bull, m’kay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Really, Bones, thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’re welcome, kid,” Leonard says warmly, pressing the button by the door, causing it to whoosh open.

That being said, he’s gone and Jim is left all alone with his thoughts. He really has to make it up to Bones. Maybe an expensive bottle of Andorian ale, or some new equipment in the medbay… he’ll give it some thought later. He crashes on his bed and takes off his uniform shirt and pants.

He doesn’t know what to do with what he’s just found out. Should he confront Spock about it? Maybe the more important question is, is this the reason Spock has been avoiding him since they’ve resumed their mission? No, it makes no sense, they’ve just started being proper friends again and Spock hasn’t said anything…

However, he’s sure that if he hadn’t kept insisting and asking Spock to play chess or hang out in the mess hall, Spock wouldn’t have made any move either. So maybe Spock is just trying to keep his Captain on his side.

Jim winces at the thought of Spock hanging out with him just because of their respective ranks and Spock’s duties as his XO. It’s starting to feel like he’s pulling rank when it comes to his and Spock’s friendship. And he’s can’t remember the last time he’s felt so ashamed.

All right, it’s starting to make sense. What other possible explanation could there be? Now that they’re back, they can’t allow things to get cold between them, it would be bad for the ship and her crew. Look what happened when they didn’t talk to each other, they almost parted ways for good. But now that Jim wants real companionship again, Spock is just playing along, for the sake of their ship.

He’s the one who started this. He has to admit that Spock has had a real reason to leave the _Enterprise_. Even though the Vulcan Science Academy has treated him with nothing but disdain and haughtiness in the past, because of his mixed heritage, Spock is still a brilliant scientist, who now can aid his people more than ever. Continuing Spock Prime’s work would be an honor. Not to mention that children that are ¼ human would help widen the gene pool and wouldn’t be frowned upon, since the need for procreation is so high.

In the meantime, what has Jim done, but complain about the monotony of a mission that is coveted by every enthusiast member of Starfleet? It was nothing he couldn’t have fixed if he had just talked to Spock and Bones. He’s pushed away both of them because of this whole thing. He was stubborn, sending that application without seeking his friends’ advice. Maybe Spock would’ve opened up too and they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

 _‘Stupid, stupid, Kirk. You screwed up again,’_ he tells himself.

He can’t blame Spock for them growing apart. The Vulcan didn’t share much to begin with. All that stuff that motivated him to leave was perfectly reasonable. He can’t use what Leonard told him against Spock. It wouldn’t be fair.

Spock is probably disappointed in him for wanting to give up captaincy and doesn’t want to associate himself with Jim any more. Has he really changed that much that he’s losing his best friend?

Maybe he should let Spock go. The Vulcan clearly isn’t as interested as Jim in fixing their friendship, so why should he push for a connection that’s is dictated mostly by their ranks?

He tries not to think what the reminder of the mission would be like and if he and Spock stopped being friends altogether. He would probably pray for the mission’s end to come sooner, regardless of how much he loves it.

There’s another possibility, he realizes. Spock might be distant because he hasn’t yet given up on his plan to go to New Vulcan, but instead he’s waiting for their mission to be over before resigning from Starfleet. He shudders at the thought. In this case, Spock probably wouldn’t want to have anything—or anyone—holding him back, so it makes sense that he severs all relationships with Starfleet members.

But he’s still close with Uhura… Do they plan on reassuming their romantic involvement, in spite of what Spock said to him three nights ago? Would he take her with him? He bites on the inside of his cheeks, plagued by the thought.

He tosses and turns all night, pondering and blaming himself. One thing becomes certain to him, as he finally falls asleep around 0300 hours: he’s no longer going to keep on trying with Spock. And damn if that doesn’t break his heart.

 

* * *

 

He’s spilled coffee on his pants again. Thankfully, the black pants won’t stain. But obviously, his morning is off to a _good_ start.

He sinks in his chair, paying attention at how he handles the cup of replicated coffee that doesn’t even taste right. If there’s one thing he misses about _Yorktown_ , it’s the coffee. Or the industrially-replicated one from coffee shops and restaurants, anyway. He wonders if Starfleet is ever going to upgrade the ancient model they fit all of their ships with.

He makes a mental note to tinker with the mess halls’ replicator settings, like he did back on the _Enterprise_. It might make things taste better.

His console blips with the overnight notifications: updates regarding course, orders from HQ, apprises on the charts; he lazily scrolls through them, before asking Uhura to open a ship-wide channel to inform his crew about today’s objectives.

He thought he wouldn’t miss the routine, but he finds this part of the day less mundane than before. He kind of enjoys it now, but after the events of last night, and because of his lack of sleep, this morning has never seemed more tedious. 

“Captain,” a well-known voice that makes his heart skip a beat greets him from behind his chair. “You were not present in the senior officer’s mess hall at the time you habitually consume the first meal of the day. This indicates a change in your routine that is not standard. May I inquire as to why this alteration has occurred?”

Jim turns into his chair a bit so he can see his First Officer for the first time today. The sight of Spock makes his stomach drop just a little.

He indeed woke up much earlier than usual, and couldn’t go back to sleep, so he’d started his morning by spending an hour in the gym. He then took a shower and had breakfast before everyone else. And if he managed to avoid Spock, well, that’s just a bonus. He’s set on fulfilling that promise he made to himself last night. He didn’t think Spock would notice his absence, though.

Jim shoots him his trademark smile. “Good morning to you too, Spock.” As usual, Spock fails to grasp the importance of common Terran greetings. “I started my day a bit earlier. Sorry I wasn’t there for breakfast. How was your morning?”

“Uneventful. However, that is irrelevant,” Spock says bluntly, going past his console, hands held tightly behind his back, to gaze at the bridge’s viewscreen.

' _You're never irrelevant to me,_ ' Jim can't help but think.

He tries not to stare at his XO and occupies himself by reading the Gamma shift report. He doesn’t even notice that Spock has returned to the science station until he receives a message on his PADD coming from none other than his XO. He opens it, curious as to what prompted Spock to send him a message instead of just telling him, since they’re just a few meters away from each other.

> _Captain, the faint, but distinct purplish discoloration beneath your eyes suggest that your sleeping schedule has suffered modifications as well. An examination would determine if any sleep disorders are at fault, therefore I recommend visiting Dr. McCoy in the medical bay for further diagnosis. –CMDR Spock_

It’s true he’s been having some trouble sleeping lately, but he’s blamed it on the heavy workload and the ship’s launch. He’ll settle in, eventually. He just has a lot of changes to adjust to. But right now, what’s on his mind is that he doesn’t know if that message came from Spock, his First Officer, or Spock, his friend. He frowns.

> _I’m fine, Commander. Don’t worry about me. –JTK_

A reply arrives shortly after he sends his own. 

> _I have already alerted Dr. McCoy, and he has agreed to an appointment today at 1200, which would coincide with your lunch break. –CMDR Spock_

Jim exhales forcefully. ‘ _What’s he doing, reporting to Bones?’_ he says to himself, annoyed by Spock’s sudden interest in his schedule and health. _‘One day he acts like I don’t even exist, the next he’s monitoring my every move? Seriously, I will never understand that Vulcan.’_

He doesn’t reply to that particular message, and instead opens another thread, with Leonard.

> _DO NOT encourage him. Do you know what's gotten into him? –JTK_
> 
> _Might be my fault. When he told me about what you've done, I asked him to keep an eye on you for me. Didn’t think he’d take it that seriously. –CMO McCoy_
> 
> _christ bones....I am NOT coming down to the medbay tho –JTK_
> 
> _You are. –CMO McCoy_
> 
> _fine but no hypos!!!! –JTK_

He puts away his PADD, and focuses on his work for a few minutes, until his PADD notifies him again.

> _Captain, on a different note, are you available at 1900 hours? I do believe the chess game we ‘took a raincheck on’, in Terran terms, has yet to be rescheduled. –CMDR Spock_

Something in his chest curls. Spock is finally reaching out on his own and if Leonard hadn’t told him about the Vulcan keeping an eye on him, or if he hadn’t reached some conclusions on his own last night, he might’ve thrown confetti around the bridge, jumping up and down with joy. But there’s no way the initiative came from Spock out of pure friendship.

He bets that the doctor and his XO made some kind of pact to supervise him so he doesn’t go back to the way he was before _Yorktown_. He almost chuckles, imagining the two of them plotting in the medbay for his sake. He’s lucky to have them as his friends.

There might be a chance that Spock doesn’t have an agenda like he’s imagined so far, and that Jim’s been misreading this whole situation. But he can’t risk getting close to Spock again, only to have him reject Jim or leave Starfleet for good. And for this reason, and this reason only, he replies to the message, instead of ignoring it like he promised himself he would last night.

> _1900 is fine with me. My quarters? –JTK_
> 
> _Affirmative. –CMDR Spock_

He’d better start coming up with a plan.

 

* * *

 

“Bones, I’m telling you, I’m _fine_ ,” Jim whines at the tricorder beeping annoyingly in his proximity. “It’s not my fault that Spock has some kind of faulty Vulcan vision that makes him think he’s seeing dark circles around my eyes. My skin is obviously flawless!”

The Georgian man sighs profusely, putting aside the tricorder. “Aren’t you just the prettiest flower,” he says mockingly. Then he grabs at Jim’s chin and holds a thin flashlight close to his eyes, not letting himself be convinced just by Jim’s words.

“ _Booooones_ ,” he wails, trying to escape from his friend’s hold.

“All right, all right. You’re fine. You just need to catch up on sleep.” Leonard pulls back and clicks the flashlight shut.

“See, if you’d just believed me—” Jim says, hopping down from the examination table.

“Well, darlin’, forgive me for doubting you, it’s not like you’ve given me any reasons not to.”

Jim purses his lips into a thin line. “I already said I’m sorry, Bones, what more do you want from me?”

“I’m just pulling your leg, kid,” Leonard says, then turns around to put his tools back into the kit.

Jim yawns loudly. “Not funny. D’ya have any energizing pills or vitamins or, I don’t know, stuff?”

“Even if I did have something you’re not allergic to, you wouldn’t be gettin’ any anyway. That stuff ain’t healthy in the long term, so just suck it up and get back on the bridge where you belong.”

Groaning loudly, Jim slumps his shoulders and starts dragging his feet towards the door.

“And cut down on coffee!” Leonard yells at him as he exits the medbay.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, rolling his eyes, but also huffing in amusement.

He straightens up eventually, adopting his captain-like posture, and makes his way to the senior officers’ mess hall. He’s still got some time left in his lunch break.

Crew members stop to politely salute him when he passes by and even though he’s hungry, he stops to chat with some of them, inquiring about their work. It puts him into a better mood, and by the time he reaches the hall, he has a genuine grin on his face. It feels like he’s finally back where he belongs.

He stops at the first replicator he sees and grabs a nearby tray, opting for some rice and vegetables. As soon as he turns around with his food, Chekov signals him from a table in the center of the hall, “Keptin, over here!”

He approaches the table where Chekov, Scotty, and Uhura are having lunch, shooting Uhura a broad smile and patting Scotty on the back.

“Where are Sulu and Spock?” he asks, taking a seat at the table.

“Hikaru had to go back on ze bridge, but I have not zeen Mr. Spock since ze first half of ze shift ended,” Chekov replies, then takes a mouthful from his tuna sandwich.

“He’s in the science lab,” Uhura provides, smiling at him and spinning her fork in her salad.

 _‘Of course Uhura would know where Spock is,’_ Jim thinks sourly. “Ah, got it,” he says instead, nodding and forcing himself to be cheerful. He avoids Uhura’s perceiving gaze, knowing that she’d see through him in just a few seconds. He proceeds to stab his rice a little harder than he means to.

Fortunately, Scotty resumes whatever tale from Engineering he had been telling his navigator and comm officer before Jim joined them, thus drawing the attention away from him. He begins to eat, remembering just how hungry he is, and tries to pay attention to Scotty too.

“…Anyway, that's exactly when wee Keenser chooses tae open th' valve an' so he finds himself covered in abit three liters o’ engine oil,” Scotty finishes, drawing bursts of laughter from both Uhura and Chekov. “It took me nae less than two hoors tae scrub th' floors clean, and Keenser, too, before th' inspection commission cam tae give th' approvals fer the launch of our new silver lady. Th’ room still reeks tho’!”

Jim finds himself grinning again, as his friends laugh around him. If Spock were here, they would probably look at each other, both of them somewhat proud and happy, because this is their family, the best people both of them have ever known and been close to.

Once they all finish their meals, Scotty parts ways with them, returning down to Engineering, while Jim, Uhura, and Chekov return to their posts. Spock is already at his station and he nods in acknowledgement at Jim when he steps on the bridge. Jim smiles tentatively at him in return and relieves Sulu from his chair.

He spends a good part of the next four hours of the shift—which are, luckily, uneventful—thinking of how to test the waters with Spock in the evening to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed it! Feel free to comment and don't forget to click on the 'kudos' button, please ;)  
> Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

“Computer, increase the temperature by five degrees.”

He steps back, giving the room the once-over. The tri-dimensional chess board is already set on his coffee table, a tray next to it with biscuits and iced Vulcan tea. He’s tidied up, too, not necessarily because the room was messy, but to have something to keep him occupied as contradictory thoughts and feelings gnawed at him.

1856 hours, his chronometer shows. He rubs his palms together, suddenly feeling ashamed and pathetic. There he is, waiting for his friend—for whom he has romantic feelings—as if it’s a date he’s been anticipating for weeks, even though he has just promised himself, not even twenty-four hours ago, that he wouldn’t hopelessly reach out anymore, not even for a standard friendship between colleagues. He really has no self-control.

He exhales forcefully through his nose. He's started to sweat, due to the increased temperature and his nervousness. 1859. Spock values punctuality, his system should chime in a few seconds…

Only that it doesn’t. Another few minutes pass by, incredibly slowly, and he starts pacing around. Spock is _never_ late, unless, heaven forbid, something’s happened—

He picks up his communicator hurriedly, fully intending to comm Spock. But he pauses, on the verge of flipping it open—he’s being completely ridiculous. He throws it on the bed, and sits on its edge as well, running a hand through his hair.

Five minutes later, and the system is still silent. Frowning, he picks up the communicator again and this time, he flips it open.

“Commander Spock, come in,” he says, trying not to sound nervous. There’s no reply, and he starts to worry, biting on the nail of his thumb. 1809, his chronometer blinks mockingly. If this was any other person than Spock, he wouldn’t worry at all, but this is _Spock_ —he would’ve been here the second his chronometer switched from 1859 to 1900. And if something has indeed intervened, he would’ve called in advance minutes, if not hours, before.

Even though he knows he’ll just end up looking like a complete fool, clingy and annoying, he exits the room and covers the short distance between their quarters. He presses the intercom button for longer than necessary, but the doors don’t open. He waits another minute before trying again, with the same frustrating result.

Turning his back to the door and looking around, he spots one of the ship’s mainframe computers. He approaches it, “Computer, locate Commander Spock.” An answer is promptly displayed on the screen: Deck 13, Senior Officers’ living quarters. Spock’s in his room.

Confused and still worried, he approaches the door again. Is Spock meditating? He’s the one who set the time of their game, so something must’ve happened for him to slip into meditation without informing Jim first, if this is truly the reason he won’t pick up his communicator or answer the door.

This is so very unlike Spock, that Jim starts wondering exactly how inappropriate it would be if he entered the captain’s overwrite code and entered the quarters without the Vulcan’s permission.

Maybe Spock’s sick? No, in the almost five years he’s known Spock, he’s never seen the Vulcan sick, tired, or in bad shape, with the exception of mission-related injuries. What if something worse has happened? His chest starts to tighten in panic and the tries the intercom again, this time speaking out, “Spock, it’s Jim. Is there something wrong?” Again, the door doesn’t open.

Just as he prepares to punch in the overwrite code, ready to justify himself to Spock in case he violates his privacy, another door down Deck 13’s hall whooshes open. Uhura steps out, without noticing him, and starts to walk in the direction opposite to him, towards the recreation room.

“Uhura!” he calls out, causing her to turn around. He nearly starts running towards her.

“Kirk, are you joining the others in the rec room, too?” she asks, waiting for him to catch up with her.

“No, I—have you seen Spock this evening?” he asks her, avoiding to tell her that he and Spock were supposed to play chess tonight. He knows she’s more likely to give him a more helpful reply this way, instead of a typical ‘well, shouldn’t you know that already?’ or ‘how should I know? I’m not Spock’s babysitter’.

She frowns a bit. “Yeah, he was in the rec room with Scotty and me about two hours ago. He must be in his room, I think. Why?”

“Uh, he won’t reply to my comms, and he’s not answering the door,” he says, scratching at the nape of his neck.

“Wait.” She squints at him. “You guys were supposed to hang out tonight, weren’t you?” she asks intuitively, sure of herself.

“Yeah,” Jim admits, seeing no way out of it.

She clicks her tongue, looking at him almost sheepishly.

He raises an eyebrow at her, getting the feeling that she’s acting suspiciously. “Do you know something?”

“All right, look. I was going to seek you out tonight and talk to you as well, but if I’d known he would react badly I wouldn’t have mentioned anything to him. I was just trying to make him see—”

“Make him see _what_?” he spits out, starting to believe Uhura is at fault for tonight. Maybe not just for tonight, but for this whole thing, too.

She exhales loudly, placing a stray lock of silky hair beneath her ear and crossing her arms. Before replying, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“Listen, you have to promise me that you won’t get mad and go full torpedo on me. Or Spock, for that matter. If he doesn’t want to see you, don’t push it, okay?”

“I can’t promise that,” he says through his teeth, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

“Kirk, I’m going to say this to you as a friend, and I need you to promise me that you will hear me out and think this through, rationally.”

“Fine, you have my word,” he grunts, impatient to find out whatever Uhura’s got to say.

“Good. Now, first of all, this is not a thing we can discuss in the hallway,” she says, starting to head back towards her quarters and motioning for him to follow her.

“Hang on,” he stops her, grabbing her elbow lightly. “Just tell me, is Spock all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine, he’s meditating most likely. Or just avoi—” she interrupts herself. “Never mind,” she continues, but Jim has a feeling he knows what she was about to say.

Uhura opens the door with her thumbprint and invites him inside. “Sit,” she says, gesturing towards the desk chair.

“Okay, spill,” Jim says impatiently, after he takes his designated seat.

She takes a deep breath. “I’m going to start by asking you if you know that Spock was planning on leaving Starfleet to go live on New Vulcan.”

“Yeah, I know. It was because he wanted to go make Vulcan babies at first, then because he felt like he has to continue Ambassador Spock’s work,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. “Bones told me.”

“Right. Well, that simplifies it,” she says, nodding once. “Do you also happen to know why he’s changed his mind?”

Jim draws his head back. “No. Bones didn’t know.”

“Hm,” she nods again. “Then I’m happy to let you know that he stayed because of you.”

“…What?” Jim’s heart skips a beat before he realizes that Uhura doesn’t probably mean it like he’s just imagined. After all, ‘because of you’ is different from ‘ _for_ you’.

“Oh, you know what I mean. Aren’t you always going like ‘oh, Spock, I don’t know what I’d do without you’ and following him around like a lost puppy? Don’t act like you don’t. Well, surprise, Spock cares about you and respects you as his friend and knows that the Enterprise would fall out of the sky and we’d all plummet to our deaths if he wasn’t here to keep your ass in place. So he stayed. For you and your ship.”

“What? Uhura, one, there’s no way he’s ever said that and two, I don’t act like that. I don’t need Spock, I can do perfectly fine without—” he argues uselessly, knowing deep down that Uhura is kind of right.

“There was no need for him to say it. It’s obvious as hell,” she interrupts him. “And yes, you do act like that, believe me. My point is, you’re holding him back—you’re clinging to him, you _depend_ on him, and it’s really, really unhealthy. For the both of you.”

“Okay, you’re exaggerating. I don’t buy it that he stayed on board for me, out of all possible and impossible reasons, and believe _me_ , I don’t _depend_ on Spock, ” Jim tries to defend himself, his voice higher than usual.

“ _Yes, you do_. And even worse, Spock depends on you too.”

That renders Jim speechless, because there’s no way in hell that he has that much of a hold over Spock. “You’re insane,” he finally deadpans.

She just chuckles bitterly and shakes her head. “The _Enterprise_ is the only place where he’s ever felt needed and valued. But if you weren’t the Captain, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t mean anything to him. You jumping up and down around him, behaving like the world spins around him is giving him the approval and attention he’s always craved. And while that’s also extremely unhealthy, you’re his best friend and he’s happy being yours. You’re a pair of codependent bastards.”

Jim blinks at her, shocked by what she’s just told him and unable to utter a single word. Uhura just rolls her eyes at him.

“I noticed he’s distanced himself from you since we launched, and I thought that maybe he’s realized that himself and decided to do what’s best for him. I didn’t ask him if he still considers leaving, though. God knows I want him on board this ship as much as you do, but you and I both know it’s selfish of us to hold him back, when he’s meant for a greater purpose.”

“There’s no greater purpose than this,” Jim finds himself saying.

“For us it might be, and Spock might’ve thought so too in the past. But you know all too well that’s not quite true. Only Spock can decide that for himself. Anyway, you’ve been showering him with attention again and, of course, he couldn’t stay away from you, so I had to tell him what I’ve just told you: that you’re both unhealthily dependent on each other, that it’s affecting his judgement, and that his place isn’t here anymore. He didn’t take it too well. But seeing that he’s locked himself up and won’t see you, maybe I’ve gotten through to him.”

Jim’s blood starts to boil. He stands up. “You meddled with our friendship? You had no right to do that! You can’t just point at us and shout ‘codependency’ like some kind of therapist, Uhura!”

“Hey, remember you promised to keep your calm,” she says firmly, unaffected by his outburst. Jim scowls at her, but doesn’t yell anymore. “You know, funnily enough,” she continues, “he said the almost same thing to me. Yell at me all you want, it won’t make it any less true. It’s not right, what you’re doing.

“The two of you shouldn’t even get along in the first place. I have no idea how you’ve come to tolerate each other. At the start of the mission, all he ever did was complain to me in his own way about how ‘illogical’ you are. You couldn’t stand his guts, either. But somehow, this dysfunctional little relationship of yours that’s sprung out of nowhere has kept this ship together, and as much damage as this is going to cause, it has to stop, now that Spock is needed somewhere else. You need to find your way without each other, both of you. Him on Vulcan, and you here.

“I do feel kind of guilty for intervening, and I’m sorry it has to be this way, but Spock grew distant on his own and what reason would he have for that, other than realizing that this friendship is doing you guys more harm than good? You’re unable to stay away from each other, can’t you see? You were both miserable on _Yorktown_ , having to spend time apart; Spock even went AWOL for a few days, drilling into his work, and you kept pestering McCoy and Scotty—you guys can’t function when you’re apart. You need to learn to do this without him, Kirk.”

And Jim can’t keep quiet anymore. “Look, maybe it’s because you and Spock broke up and since you can’t have Spock, you must think that no one else can have him either. Not that I _have_ Spock, you’re totally exaggerating and you’ve gone overboard with this insane theory of yours—”

“It’s not theory, Kirk. It’s fact, and don’t you dare think this is about me being jealous,” she argues stubbornly.

“—but you’re way out of line. You have absolutely no business interfering in our friendship and saying who needs to be where and who needs to do what. Spock and I _do not_ have a dysfunctional relationship and I can’t believe you’d ever just assume you can fix whatever issues you’re obviously imagining Spock and I have—”

“If what I’m not saying is true, then why is Spock shutting you out right now, after I’ve just had the same talk with him?” she interrupts him calmly, shutting him up right away.

Jim freezes. His eyes widen and his fists uncurl helplessly.

Once she sees that he’s intending to stay quiet, she goes on. “Kirk, I’m your friend and I only want what’s best for the both of you, I swear. You promised to hear me out till the end, and I’m not done. There’s one more thing. What I said to Spock might have caused him to start wandering back to the right path, but he needs one last push that can’t possibly come from me. He won’t leave the ship unless you tell him to. That’s how much power you have over him.

“Listen to me. You must understand that this is the right thing to do. Spock needs to be with his people. It won’t be that hard. Scotty or Sulu would make great First Officers. And believe me, you’ll both be better off without each other, once you’ll get used to it. But, Kirk, he needs to hear it from you—you’ve got to do this, do you understand? Kirk?”

But Jim has tuned her out long ago, and he’s barely processed the terrible thing she’s encouraging him to do. “I’ve got to go,” he says quietly, fleeing the room. Uhura shouts his name, trying to stop him, but he manages to reach his quarters fast enough to slide the door open, get in, and close it before she can catch up with him.

Leaning against the cold metal of the door, he closes his eyes and swallows around the lump in his throat. His hands are shaking in anger and shock. He can’t pretend Uhura isn’t right anymore. She has indeed crossed a line and made far too many assumptions, but she made a valid point. She’s seen through him, as always.  

He ends up curling in on himself underneath his blanket, mind replaying Uhura’s words over and over again.

_‘He stayed. For you and your ship.’_

_‘Spock depends on you too.’_

_‘—you’re his best friend and he’s happy being yours—he couldn’t stay away from you—you guys can’t function when you’re apart—’_

_‘—he needs to hear it from you—you’ve got to do this, do you understand? Kirk?’_

If there’s even the smallest chance of her being right… Even though he can hardly believe that he has that much influence over Spock, he can’t risk being the asshole who holds him back just because he selfishly wants the Vulcan on board.

Deeply shaken by what he’s found out in the last two days, he falls asleep without meaning to, even though it’s awfully early and he tries to keep up with the thoughts spiraling inside his head. He jolts awake hours later, in the middle of the night, pillow on the floor and blanket tangled around his legs.

He gets out of bed without lingering and makes his way to the bathroom. He catches a glimpse of his tired face in the mirror before discarding the uniform he fell asleep in and stepping into the shower. He stays in the cabin longer than necessary, head resting against the cool glass. When he forces himself to get out, putting on some plain civilian clothes that he’s brought in the bathroom with him, his eyes fix on the door connecting Spock’s quarters to this space they share.

He slowly starts brushing his teeth, wondering if those doors are as soundproof to Spock’s ears as they are to his, given that Spock’s Vulcan hearing is superior. He hopes that if Spock’s sleeping or meditating, he isn’t disturbing him by loitering in the bathroom.

Exiting the bathroom after he finishes, he throws a glance at the chronometer. 0226, it reads, and an old Terran saying comes immediately to Jim’s mind. ‘Nothing good ever happens after 2 AM.’ Against better judgement and a voice in his head screaming at him not to do it, he picks up his PADD.

> _Are you up? –JTK_

He knows that Spock turns off his PADD when he meditates or sleeps, so Jim’s message will not disturb him if he’s resting. Jim learned that back on the _Enterprise_ : when he couldn’t sleep, he’d message Spock and if Spock was up, they’d either go to the bridge, relieving the officers replacing them, or they’d hang out, playing chess or finishing up paperwork. At first Spock wouldn’t approve of Jim missing out on important hours of sleep, but in the end he’d give in and join Jim in whatever he’d suggested.

Thinking back on it, Uhura’s words start making sense to him now. There’s not a single time that Spock’s refused Jim without good reason, be it something work-related, or personal, and even then, Jim would somehow manage to convince Spock either way. However, he still refuses to believe that Spock has been doing it because he wants Jim’s appreciation and attention. No, their friendship isn’t contaminated by that.

What Uhura doesn’t know is that he’s hung up on Spock, head over heels and everything, and that this is the source of his apparent dependency. But this isn’t something that he’s let interfere with their relationship, at work or in private, and he’s fairly sure that if Spock’s got some issues of his own, he wouldn’t let them get in the way of rational thinking either. He’s a Vulcan, after all.

Their friendship has been an anchor for Jim these past years, a source of light in Jim’s life, and he won’t allow some words Uhura’s thrown around to ruin it for him.

His PADD’s screen lights up.

> _Affirmative. –CMDR Spock_

Relieved that Spock’s not avoiding or ignoring him, he quickly types another message.

> _Can I come over? –JTK_

He doesn’t invite Spock to his own quarters because he’s well aware that it would make it much easier for Spock to storm out if he feels like avoiding what Jim plans on discussing. The reply comes faster than Jim had anticipated, short and very Spock-like.

> _Affirmative. –CMDR Spock_

He quickly puts some socks on and doesn’t even consider going out in the hall to press the intercom button, as he should in this situation. Instead he walks across the bathroom and quietly knocks at his First Officer’s door, a sense of familiarity washing over him.

It takes less than two seconds for Spock to open the door and let him in, the heat of the room enveloping him. When Spock’s eyes meet his, Jim can swear that they look much warmer than usual.

“Hey,” Jim says softly, smiling weakly. “I hope I didn’t wake you up or anything.”

Spock’s wearing a deep blue meditation tunic, the material hanging loose on his lithe frame and Jim can’t help but admire how the garment fits him perfectly. He slowly closes the door behind Jim before speaking out.

“Negative, I do not require rest at the moment. I have just concluded an extensive meditation session,” he replies promptly, but he pauses before continuing. “Jim, please accept my apology for failing to inform you that I would not participate in our planned engagement.”

“It’s all right. I was worried about you, though,” Jim can’t help but confess.

“Your concern was not necessary, but it is much appreciated. I would have informed you, but the need for meditation was absolutely paramount.”

“Yeah, I—uh, rang your intercom once or twice before I saw Uhura,” Jim says. Spock gestures him to sit down on the bed while he himself takes the seat at his desk.

“The meditation trance must have been too profound. Did Lieutenant Uhura reveal the terms of my absence?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did,” Jim nods and gulps. “Among other things.” The air between them begins to settle into an awkward silence.

“Jim,” Spock begins, “what Lieutenant Uhura has inferred does not reflect the truth.”

“But she _inferred_ , you said it, not me. Extrapolated, conjectured, deduced, surmised, call it whatever you want, but she didn’t invent or imagine it. And what she said obviously affected you, since you had to go meditate immediately afterwards.”

“Jim, she could not be more wrong,” Spock says quietly.

“She was wrong to think that she was as liberty to intervene between us. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about Uhura and what she’s done. She clearly touched a nerve with both of us, and while some of what she’s said is complete and utter nonsense, she’s right about something. But, before I make my point, I need to know something,” Jim starts firmly, but his resolve starts weakening. “Am I really the reason, or at least part of the reason why you didn’t leave?”

Spock closes his eyes briefly. “Affirmative.”

Jim’s breath hitches in his throat. A dozen different feelings hit him at once. “Then you need to get off this ship when we reach the nearest starbase and take the first shuttle to New Vulcan.”

“Jim,” Spock speaks out his name for the fourth time, and Jim thinks he hears the Vulcan’s voice waver slightly. “Please do not—”

“I _cannot_ be the one who holds you back. I won’t stand for this. This might be the only thing Uhura’s really right about. So, please, Spock, as much as I hate to say it, you’ve got to go. Find yourself a nice Vulcan lady to settle down and make babies with, continue your counterpart’s work; you’re needed there,” he says, trying not to wince, emotions out of control.

“I have no desire, nor do I intend to relocate permanently to New Vulcan,” Spock says starkly.

“Spock. This isn’t open to discussion. Where’s that logic you’re so proud of? If you can’t tell me any valid reason for staying on board other than me being a whiny, needy asshole, I will fire you myself.”

Spock simply gets up, and for a second, Jim believes that it’s so he throws Jim out of his quarters. But he reaches up and picks something up from a shelf. Then, he approaches Jim and holds out the object so Jim can take it. It’s a small Vulcan photo box. Jim slides it open hesitantly, revealing a holopic of the _Enterprise_ ’s senior crew, one that Jim doesn’t remember taking. He takes a closer look. His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, realizing that he, Spock, and the crew look about two, if not three decades older.

“This was among Ambassador Spock’s belongings. I have reached the conclusion that perhaps I am to play a much greater role if I choose to remain on board of the _Enterprise_. My counterpart has lived a long and happy life, most of which has been spend on board the ship, alongside his Captain and crew.

“A sense of duty has had me illogically oscillating between a planet that I am not fully familiar with and that I have only briefly visited twice, and a ship that has been more of a home to me than my original home planet. However, if I am destined to live this long, I will have the chance to dedicate the later years of my life to aiding my people. The colony will still be there, decades into the future. The _Enterprise_ will not.”

Jim looks up at Spock, handing the holopic back to him. The Vulcan places it back from where he took it, then resumes his seat. “Does this reason satisfy you?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jim reluctantly agrees. A frown suddenly creases his face. “Wait. You’ve been to New Vulcan _twice_?”

Jim remembers the first time Spock’s visited the new colony; it was just before the Enterprise departed for the five-year mission. He even picked Spock up from the shuttleport when he came back, after a two-week visit. The Vulcan came back sporting a slight tan that kind of looked great on him, Jim recalls. But since then, there can’t possibly have been any other occasions for Spock to visit New Vulcan. Unless…

Spock does the Vulcan equivalent of wincing, as if Jim’s picked up on something he shouldn’t have said. “During our stay on starbase _Yorktown_ , I found an opportunity to visit the colony,” he reveals, holding back from giving any more details. Jim’s going to have to insist if he wants to find out more.

He suddenly recalls something Uhura said to him last evening, _‘Spock even went AWOL for a few days’._ There had been times when he would comm Spock without receiving any replies, or when he wouldn’t see Spock for days on end, but he’d assumed that he was too busy with his work. He would never have guessed that Spock had left the starbase.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Jim asks curiously. Spock looks uncomfortable for a second, if Jim reads his reaction correctly.

“I did not inform anyone of my departure because the purpose of my visit was to keep an appointment with a mind healer,” Spock divulges.

Jim starts to worry about the implications of this visit. “Why? Was there something wrong?”

“Negative,” Spock says, refusing to say anything more.

“You were there to find a bondmate, weren’t you?” Jim asks weakly. He know what can happen to unbonded Vulcans if they reach a certain period of their lives. He’s hacked into the VSA archives a few years ago, looking for enlightenment on the mystery that is the Vulcan race. He’s never thought that such emotionless creatures would be able to form lasting mental bonds. It’s most curious.

For all he knows, Spock could now be bonded to some girl on New Vulcan, who’s waiting for Spock to drop by every seven years. So, Spock has another reason for staying: he’s already came up with a plan for procreation, as part of helping his race, just like he wanted at first. He’s just going to hang out on the _Enterprise-A_ until the day comes. Jim’s starting to feel sick.

“I do not wish to discuss the matter any further,” Spock says coldly, almost defensively. He gets up from his seat, graciously and soundlessly. “Regardless of what you believe you know about Vulcan bonding customs, I ask of you not to press the issue.”

That’s the closest thing to a proper answer that Jim is going to get out of Spock. He gets up as well, intending to leave, but he stubbornly opens his mouth instead. “Spock, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Based on my understanding of customary Terran emotional connections between individuals, I am inclined to believe that our association can only be defined as a friendship. I have repeated this multiple times throughout the time we have spent together. As always, I fail to see the relevance of your question.”

“Friends tell each other stuff like this, Spock. You can’t just tell me that you’ve been to New Vulcan to get your head checked out and then not say why or what happened next.”

“If you are under the impression that friends are indeed supposed to ‘share’ particulars of the like, then I believe it would be appropriate for me to inquire as to why you have not disclosed to me your intention to renounce captaincy and apply for vice-admiralty on starbase _Yorktown_ 2.84 years into our mission,” Spock says, on a fast tone that jabs at Jim.

“Fine, is this really how you want to play your cards? Since you keep assuring me that we’re friends, why did I have to find out from Bones that you planned on running off to New Vulcan yourself?”

Neither of them say anything else for a while, before Jim, seeing that he’s driving Spock further and further away from him, decides to let go of his pride.

“Spock, look, I’m sorry for not telling you about that, I was stupid and reckless and I honestly—”

The Vulcan holds up one hand, a gestures that cuts off Jim. “Will apologies initiated by both parties be sufficient for the reconciliation of a friendship that was been damaged by lack of communication?”

Jim tilts his head a bit, surprised by Spock’s blunt question. “Yeah, pretty much. That, and the promise to start sharing stuff again.”

“Very well. I apologise as well for keeping information from you, Jim. If you are still willing to listen, I am amenable to responding to your inquiry related to my visit on New Vulcan.”

Jim smiles at him, warmth spreading in his chest. So Spock’s admitted that they’ve grown apart and asked Jim how they can fix it. And now he’s willing to share. Maybe some good things can happen after 2 AM.

“I’d really like that,” Jim says.

Spock nods. “Your initial supposition is correct, the appointment was meant to assess my capacity to bond. However, I must begin by mentioning that I was once bonded.”

“Really?” Jim asks, taken aback by the reveal.

“Affirmative. Her name was T’Pring. Our parents agreed to form a weak bond between us when the age of seven was reached by the both of us, as tradition dictates. It never was fully formed and I did not consider her my bondmate, but I still felt her demise when our home planet was destroyed.”

“I’m…sorry to hear that, Spock. My condolences,” is the only think Jim can say.

“We were not close, but your condolences are appreciated. Nevertheless, unbonded Vulcans do not fare well, and such an appointment should have been made much sooner, right after the destruction of Vulcan,” Spock continues. “At the time, Lieutenant Uhura and I were involved romantically, so I did not seek a mind healer out of respect for our relationship. A part of me illogically believed that one day she would take T’Pring’s place. Upon realizing that she would not make a satisfactory mate, in spite of her being a highly intelligent individual to whom I can relate, I chose to end our involvement. Then, I contacted my father on New Vulcan, asking him to arrange a meeting with a mind healer during the next shore leave, in fear that my mental health would deteriorate in the absence of a bond. ”

If Spock didn’t find Uhura ‘satisfactory’, Jim wonders what Spock’s dream woman is like. Uhura is, hands down, a phenomenal woman. Any guy would be lucky to have her. He starts to regret asking; he’s not sure if he wants to find out the identity of the new Mrs. Spock.

“The appointment did not have the outcome my father or I had predicted. The mind healer declared that my mind is at maximum functioning capacity and praised the resilience of my shields. At the end of the meeting, I had expected the healer to recommend a matchmaker who would find a match whose mind would be compatible with mine. Instead, she simply noted that my remarkable mental condition would not be possible without the presence of a bond. A frail bond that had begun to replace the severed one I had with T’Pring.”

‘ _Oh come on, this is just getting ridiculous,_ ’ Jim thinks. It’s too much. First, Bones tells him about Spock wanting to leave. Then Uhura tells him why and takes his and Spock’s friendship apart like a goddamn therapist, and now Spock tells him he’s already bonded with someone without even knowing. The past couple of days have come straight from hell.

“Once I explained to her that this bond had started forming without my intention or knowledge,” Spock goes on with his story, “she proceeded to classify it. In Vulcan terms, I had found my _t’hy’la_.”

“What does that mean?” Jim asks. His throat’s dried up.

“There is no proper translation of it in Standard. It can mean either friend, brother, or lover, or a vague combination between the terms. A soulmate, if you will. Such a bond is extremely rare in Vulcan culture and the individuals who find their _t’hy’la_ consider their bond to be _ta’an_ , a gift and a blessing. It is tremendously strong and profoundly valued and respected by our people.”

“Whoa, Spock, hold on. You’re telling me you’ve found your soulmate?”

“Affirmative. Given the unusually high compatibility between this individual and myself, our minds have connected on their own, without either of us realizing,” Spock admits. “As I did not discern the identity of my intended soulmate at that time, the mind healer aided me in entering a deep state of meditation that allowed me to come in direct contact with the forming bond. It was hidden beneath my shields. It is weak and I could barely feel its presence, but I identified immediately who is on the other side of it. ”

Jim rubs his face with his palms. He’s growing tired of asking questions. He’s doesn’t really want to hear this anymore, even though he’s the one who pressured Spock into telling him. It’s not like he’s ever had a true shot with Spock, but hearing that the Vulcan hasn’t only found a bondmate, but a soulmate at that…

If the sound of a heart breaking would be audible, Jim’s sure that this whole ship would go deaf. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your soulmate right now? Jesus Christ, Spock, why didn’t you stay on New Vulcan if you’ve found her?”

“I did not wish to leave the _Enterprise_. But I would have come back either way, regardless of my wishes.”

“Wait—what’s that supposed to mean? Why?”

“Because the person I am meant to bond with, my _t’hy’la_ , my everything, is you, Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I've kind of went overboard with the dialogue on this one. Whoops.  
> This was supposed to be the final chapter, but I realized I kind to include more stuff, including some light smut too, and perhaps a short epilogue, so I have edited 1) the tags, 2) the total number of chapters shown in the fic summary, 3) the rating, and 4) the remaining content, so it can be split in two parts.  
> So prepare for the cute and hot stuff advertised in the tags, 'cause the next and final chapter is going to be up next weekend! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this isn't beta-ed, so I apologize for any mistakes that you may find! Enjoy!

Jim’s entire composure falters and he feels like his world comes crashing down on him.

“You don’t mean that. Take it back, now,” he manages to utter through his constricted throat.

Those four years have taught him better. This isn’t happening. This can’t possibly happen. Spock can’t be serious. His head is throbbing, eyes swimming out of focus. Either he's dreaming, or he's hooked up to a messed-up sim on the holodeck, or Spock is just being nauseatingly cruel for some reason. Heat engulfs him, amplified by the high temperature of the Vulcan’s room; he’s started to sweat heavily and his migraine is getting worse and worse by the second.

“I cannot. I will not,” Spock states. “Yesterday, Lieutenant Uhura brought to my attention our ‘codependency’, as she improperly named it, without realizing that its source is an unclaimed bond. This is what I referred to when I tried to explain that Lieutenant Uhura could not possibly be more wrong in her assumptions. Will you allow me to offer you further explanation?”

Jim breathes out forcefully, trying to keep his heartrate to a minimum. “All right, explain.”

“I fully planned on revealing the truth to you at the end of the next Alpha shift, but you have sought me out first. The prolonged meditation session that was caused by my emotional response to Lieutenant Uhura’s words has made me comprehend that I have wrongfully kept information from you and avoided you, ever since discovering that you are my intended bondmate.”

“So you’ve really been avoiding me all this time?” Jim asks.

Spock inclines his head, as though Jim’s pointed out something that is both wrong and right at the same time. “I attempted to preserve our friendship, aware of the fact that my acknowledgement of the bond would become an inconvenience not only to myself, but to you as well. I chose to remain distant, so I would not act under the guidance of the bond and irreversibly ruin our friendship, but I did not realize that it would create more discrepancies between us.

“I apologize if I have caused you distress. Ultimately, as you have insisted upon us engaging socially on multiple occasions, I have found that I cannot refuse your requests anymore. Our friendship did not deserve to suffer impediments on account of my revelation, and I felt that I can no longer keep my distance from you.”

“Spock, I—”

“Please allow me to finish,” Spock quickly says, cutting him off.

Jim shuts up. If Spock is really serious about this, he’ll tell him later that he’s sorry that the Vulcan had to end up with a lousy soulmate like Jim. In which impossible universe would he be a suitable soulmate for Spock? He can’t help but wonder in which twisted way Spock’s mind is wired, if it chose to connect itself to Jim’s. Maybe it was his fault, maybe he’s so desperately in love that he’s been emanating pheromones and Spock’s mind picked up on it and, like Uhura said, he clung onto it. This bond can’t be real.

He’ll fire Spock, convince him to break the bond or do whatever thing is necessary for this thing to go away, so Jim can resume pretending that he’ll get over Spock eventually, and send him to the colony where he belongs. This is how it’s supposed to be. No fantasy-alien-untranslatable-telepathic-bond thing. It’s just not realistic.

And so what if he’s going to spend the rest of his life bitterly regretting that he’s sent the love of his life away? He’ll eventually get through captaincy; he’ll get drunk once every few days, cry out Spock’s name in his sleep, sob a bit in the bathroom every once in a while like a lovesick high school girl, hook up on shore leave with random Orions or Andorians who don’t know who he is, then feel shame and regret the next morning, all while trying to forget that he’s no one, just a kid from Earth who tried to find out if the stars ever end somewhere.

He’ll settle down with some girl he finds acceptable one day, go back to Iowa and have a kid of his own. He’ll maybe see Spock once or twice more in his life, he’ll try someday to reach out, only to realize that the Vulcan doesn’t really have space for Jim in his life. And he’ll know in that moment that it would never have been real, if he chose to answer differently today. That’ll be it, nothing more.

Spock, oblivious to Jim’s thoughts, goes on. “As our conversation suffered degeneration 17.3 minutes ago, caused by your statement that I should choose to establish on New Vulcan, I reached the conclusion that perhaps this particular exchange might not be the right course of action. However, immediately after, you attempted to mend our friendship and I decided that it is indeed time to uncover the truth.

“Lieutenant Uhura has misread the situation entirely, although she has acted in good faith. Our friendship is not defectuous. If anything, it has only tried to make us realize that there is something hidden beneath it, the potential for more.

“James Tiberius Kirk, there is no other being in the universe with whom I would rather entwine my life. You have ignited bright fires in me. There are no words in the Standard language that I could possibly use to convey what your existence and this bond mean to me. We complete one another, your mind is attuned to mine and I cannot bear the thought of not being by your side, mind, soul, and body.

“However, you have not displayed interest in monogamy, and I believe you would not see a satisfactory mate in me even if that were the situation. In spite of my belief that I will only confront rejection, I am compelled to ask your permission to claim this bond.”

Stunned by Spock’s words, Jim turns his back to the Vulcan and sighs, breath hitching and stuttering. He tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling, and places one hand over his mouth. ‘ _Not like this_ ,’ he thinks. ‘ _I want you so much, but never like this._ ’

Spock doesn’t mean it. Whatever stuff this bond is making him do, confessing eternal love to Jim like he’s goddamn Shakespeare of Shi'Kahr, it doesn’t come from Spock. That’s not going to be his life, as much as he wants to wake up with Spock by his side every single day for the remainder of his existence. He’s meant for bitter memories, meaningless partners, and numbing alcohol. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he turns around and faces Spock again.

The Vulcan has never looked more vulnerable to Jim. He simply looks… lost. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly, the chocolate brown eyes that Jim loves so much are wider than Jim’s ever seen them, and there is an almost imperceptible green tint to his cheeks. Jim almost gives in, wanting nothing more than to launch himself at Spock, to take his hands into his and to kiss that frown away. But he can’t.

“You can’t have my permission,” he finally says, with a broken voice.

Spock’s face does a hundred things at once. “I understand. Might I inquire why?”

Jim takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Spock, are you even listening to yourself? You’re saying that I, of all people, am your _soulmate_. It’s ridiculous. You’re waxing poetic and you don’t even realize what exactly you’re asking me to do,” he says hotly.

Maybe it’s time he told the truth as well. Spock deserves to know, especially now that he’s made an effort to come clean to Jim. It wouldn’t be fair if he hid this from Spock any further, it would eat at him. He runs a hand through his hair, fingers trembling. It’s time.

“God, Spock, you don’t even know... I’ve always thought you’re brilliant and amazing and the most gorgeous being I know. I could _never_ reject you. You’ve been on my mind since we first met. I’ve wanted you for so long, you have no idea… But I didn’t need some bond to fall in love with you. Humans don’t need that. What you’re feeling right now, you’re feeling it because the bond says it. You’d never have looked twice at me that way without it. I can’t accept this, it’s wrong. No one else in the universe could love you more than I would, Spock, but this isn’t real—”

“You have romantic feelings toward me?” Spock asks, his voice betraying his wonder.

“Yeah,” Jim admits quietly, looking away. He can’t say anything else.

“Jim, I did not need to be aware of the bond to acknowledge my feelings toward you,” Spock states softly.

“What?” Jim’s head shoots up, confusion etching his features.

“I terminated my relationship with Lieutenant Uhura 9.59 months ago because I had started exhibiting romantic feelings toward you, even though I have clarified my wish to her using a dissimilar context,” Spock says. “In fact, I believe that I have unconsciously felt this way since the _Narada_ incident. The bond’s development could have only been ignited by our prolonged exposure to one another and by already-present mutual attraction, and therefore it would not have influenced my feelings, or yours for that matter. I estimate that the bond has started forming during the time of our encounter with Khan Noonien Singh four-point—”

“Spock. Stop talking.”

That image of a bitter life, of self-hatred, promiscuity, and destructive habits fades away, and Jim can only think about the _Enterprise_ ’s bridge, _A_ or no _A_ at the end of her beloved name. He’s staring out the viewscreen, millions of bright stars right there in his palm, a content smile on his face. A lithe silhouette clad in science blues—his anchor, his hopes and dreams, his future—at his right side, where he’s supposed to be.

And Jim closes the distance between them in two steps, placing his hands on Spock’s hips and pulling the Vulcan against his body. His eyes meet Spock’s in a silent agreement, and he covers Spock’s lips with his own.

His heart pounds loudly in his chest as he moves his lips tentatively across Spock’s. Both of them close their eyes and the Vulcan gently brings his hands up to Jim’s face, cupping the nape of his neck and his cheek. He leans in more, and Jim happily presses his lips against Spock’s, only to have the Vulcan respond eagerly.

He gets lost in the tender brush of their lips. Their bodies move in sync, like this is their millionth kiss and not their first. He sighs into the kiss, wanting more of that pleasant prickle of electricity travelling through his body. He encircles Spock’s waist with one arm, splaying his palm on the small of the Vulcan’s back, pulling him even closer and pressing their bodies together in a soft collision.

Jim doesn’t know which one of them lets out a quiet moan and who parts their lips first, but he enthusiastically deepens the kiss. He bites lightly on Spock’s lower lip and realizes that it might’ve been him who moaned first, because he would have recognized the divine sound that his action has just coaxed out of Spock’s lovely mouth. 

Spock tightens his hold on Jim and makes him take a step back. The back of Jim’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he lets himself lower on the mattress, dragging Spock down with him without breaking their kiss. Their legs tangle together as Spock pushes them toward the center of the bed and climbs on top of Jim. The Vulcan’s hands somehow end up underneath Jim’s shirt, exploring the skin of his hips and Jim gasps, surprised by their gentleness and warmth. In return, he grips at Spock’s tunic, drawing him even closer than before, then lets his hands roam freely, mapping out Spock’s chest and shoulders.

They eventually break the kiss, breathing heavily. Jim opens his eyes to find Spock above him, his arms trapped between the Vulcan’s elbows. He smiles in a haze at his First Officer and is surprised to see Spock’s own lips curling upwards in a rare breach of his usual Vulcan composure. Neither of them speak, and when Jim finally catches his breath, Spock captures his mouth again in another searing kiss.

With a small groan, Jim parts his lips and allows Spock to nip and lick at his lower lip. He’s never thought Spock could be so forward. It wakes something up inside him, this fervency of Spock’s, and it makes him want _more_. So he pushes Spock off him, and the Vulcan freezes, immediately removing his hands from Jim’s body, in fear that he’s done something wrong. Jim quickly presses an assuring kiss to his lips, then climbs over Spock’s body, making them switch places. The Vulcan lets him arrange their bodies to his liking, watching him with intent eyes.

He presses another kiss to Spock’s lips, then he begins to make his way down to Spock’s throat, leaving a trail of kisses on his cheek, nipping at his jaw and sucking at the skin of his neck. Spock moans lowly, tilting his head back to allow him better access. Jim finds out a sweet spot, where Spock’s pulse is stronger and begins to religiously worship it with his lips and tongue.

Jim’s hand find Spock’s and, trying to remember as much as he is able to about what he’s read in the VSA archives in this heated moment, he brings their index and middle fingers together, the pads brushing against each other ever-so-slightly. Spock lets out a quiet gasp and Jim can’t help but grin and bring his head back up to see the expression on the Vulcan’s face.

His pupils are blown wide, the green tint of his cheeks endearingly obvious.

“You are aware of this gesture’s signification,” Spock says breathlessly and Jim wonders if it was meant to be a question or a statement. It doesn’t matter, he decides.

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement, brushing their fingers together once more and watching with satisfaction as Spock parts his lips and inhales sharply.

Still grinning, he brings his mouth back to Spock’s pulse, and starts working his way back up to his lips, planting firm kisses on every inch of skin he can cover. The Vulcan’s free hand comes up to clutch the back of Jim’s head, fingers carding through his hair, blunt nails scratching at his scalp. Jim hums again, enjoying the feeling of Spock’s hand in his hair, and his lips find Spock’s once more.

Their kiss starts to slowly change from slow and languid to fervent and urgent, tongues brushing together, eliciting moans from both of them. Jim’s notices that his blood has started rushing someplace else rather than his limbs or head, and he begins to think about pausing this, so he and Spock can talk before going anywhere further.

He’s the one who finally breaks the kiss, and opens his eyes to stare at the ravished Vulcan pinned underneath him. They breathe in each other’s air for a few seconds.

“All right, Mr. Spock, you’ve convinced me. You’ve got my permission. I want you to claim the hell out of this.”

There is a rumbling sound coming from Spock’s throat and Jim stares at him lovingly as he identifies it as a chuckle. Spock’s fingers brush against his again. As his skin tingles pleasantly at the contact, one thought passes through his mind.

“Hey, can you read my thoughts, y’know, ‘cause we’re touching?”

“Negative,” Spock replies in a warm tone. “My shields are in place, although I am experiencing difficulties in maintaining them,” he explains, blush deepening.

Jim grins and bites his lip. He removes his body from above Spock’s, and lies down on the bed, by the Vulcan’s side. Their heads are just centimeters apart. His hand finds Spock’s again and he brings their fingers together. With a long, unhurried brush of his fingertips against Spock’s, he says, “Then bring them down.”

Spock breathes out, hot air caressing Jim’s face and he closes his eyes. Jim’s eyes study he Vulcan’s face, memorizing the beautiful features and that deliciously wrecked expression he’s never seen before.

“I would not dare to do so yet,” Spock says, opening his eyes. Jim is so close to him that he can count his eyelashes. The moment quickly fades, and Spock gets up, raising the upper half of his body and crossing his legs beneath him. Jim gets up too, supporting his weight on his elbows.

“Is there something wrong?” Jim asks, alarmed by Spock moving away from him. Their hands are still touching, and Spock interrupts the Vulcan kiss to interlace their fingers into a firm hold.

“Negative,” Spock says again. “However, there are certain aspects you need to familiarize yourself with, before resuming any correlated activities.”

Jim nods. “All right. But I don’t think there’s anything you could tell me that wouldn’t make me want this anymore.”

Spock looks at him intently. “Nonetheless, I will not allow the bond to cement until you become fully aware of what it implies. This is nothing short of permanent, Jim. Any attempt to severe the bond after it is claimed will cause incapacitating pain and distress to the both of us that will never truly fade.”

“So I’m basically Vulcan-marrying you for life, no takesies-backsies. I’m down for that—let’s show marriage how it’s done,” Jim says, unaffected by the thought of tying himself to Spock for the rest of his life whatsoever. The idea brings a bright smile to his face.

“Moreover, the bond will create a telepathic connection between our minds, allowing us to communicate wordlessly, a trait which is, by default, involuntary. Understandably, if you wish to keep your thoughts private, I will teach you how to shield—”

“Spock. Having you in my head is only going to make this more awesome than it already is. I get to marry you _and_ see what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours? Might just be the best deal I’ve ever been offered.”

“Very well,” Spock says, squeezing Jim’s hand in his lightly, in a show of approval and affection. “Lastly, before proceeding, you must know what claiming the bond involves. A mind meld is required, during which I will lower my shields and allow our minds to come in direct contact for the first time, causing them to recognize each other through the bond, thusly solidifying our existing connection. After it is done, my presence in your mind will become noticeable and permanent, as will yours in mine. It is a painless process, but it might implicate emotional transfer.”

That stoic Vulcan expression that Jim got used to seeing on Spock’s face is entirely gone and he takes some time to admire the changes that intimacy brings in Spock. The warmth of his eyes and the small curve of his lips bordering on a smile only make his undeniable attractiveness even more prominent. Jim squeezes Spock’s hand in return.

“Do it,” he says without hesitation.

“Are you certain?”

“ _Yes_.”

Spock then moves closer to him on the mattress, facing him. Their knees touch and Spock brings his hand up to Jim’s face. They both close their eyes, breathing in deeply.

“If there is any memory or thought you wish to conceal from me, I strongly advise you to—”

“Spock. There’s nothing I want to hide from you.”

Spock nods once, slowly. “Likewise.” His hand hovers over Jim’s cheek. ”My mind to your mind,” he says, placing his fingers on Jim’s psi-points. ‘ _My thoughts to your thoughts_.’ Jim hears the second part of the customary Vulcan saying in his head, in a beautiful, clear echo of Spock’s voice.

He can tell that Spock’s there, his presence bringing warmth and happiness like Jim’s never felt before, sifting through his thoughts with gentleness. And when Spock finds _it_ , touching _it_ with his presence, it’s like a dam breaks, letting out blinding light, and throwing the both of them into a vortex of feelings, images and sounds that neither of them can tell apart.

Jim gasps at the intensity of the emotions coursing through him, his mind and Spock’s further blending together. He feels like he sees more sharply, with a clarity his eyes are not accustomed to. The colors look different, somehow, and Jim wonders if he’s seeing the world through Spock’s eyes, feelings flowing and changing along with the images. So the Vulcan truly does _feel_.

There’s frustration and anger, when he first meets Jim, as he beats the Kobayashi Maru test and then challenges Spock’s authority on the board of the _Enterprise_ during the _Narada_ incident, emotionally compromising him—

‘ _I’m still sorry ‘bout that_ ,’ Jim thinks, knowing Spock is there to hear him.

‘ _It was necessary, you do not need to regret your actions_ ,’ Spock thinks, his voice crystal clear in Jim’s head. Jim then realizes they’re both viewing the same things, fragments of Spock’s memories involving him.

Then comes curiosity, as they team up to take Nero down and work together flawlessly, as if they’re made to complete each other… Spock is fascinated by how this illogical human’s mind works, feeling impossibly drawn to him, making him apply for the position of First Officer on the _Enterprise_ as Jim is rewarded with captaincy—

Next there’s admiration, respect, and loyalty, building slowly as they begin to know each other better, Spock learning the meaning of friendship and Jim earning his complete trust, without either of them knowing that a powerful bond would start to form out of their undeniable compatibility—

Then, there’s Khan hailing down destruction over everything Spock knows, devastation and grief striking him as he feels the only being who has ever understood him slip away from him and he’s just left wanting to rip Khan to pieces, shatter each despicable bone in his body until there’s nothing left of the man who took Jim away from him, and he roars Khan’s name, feeling true rage for the first time in his life—

‘ _Spock_ …’ Jim feels Spock surrounding him protectively, in some sort of tight mental hug, which feels infinitely better than a real one.

‘ _Never again_ , taluhk nash-veh k’dular, ashal-veh,’ Spock vows, the words echoing in Jim’s mind. ‘ _I shall never allow anything to take you away from me again. Not ever_.’ A powerful shiver runs through Jim.

Next comes joyous relief, as Spock stands by Jim’s biobed, seeing his friend and Captain alive and well, and there’s a different feeling underneath it all, something that is akin to affection and desire, true and innocent and yet to be discovered—

From then on and until the moment of revelation back on New Vulcan, Spock’s been trapped in his own confusion, suppressing an underlying pull with powerful mental shields, without knowing that there is a bond behind them, a bond that could become his whole life, without knowing that he’s not allowing the light underneath to _breathe_ —

And Jim catches glimpses of the small moments too, little clues that should have helped them realize who each other is—

There’s Uhura waiting for Spock as he returns late from a game of chess in Jim’s quarters, Spock apologizing even though he doesn’t see where he did her wrong, since she’s in his quarters without having informed him that she would wait for him, and Uhura blowing out the candles that she lit while she waited—

There’s Spock telling Jim to take care on missions, as Jim insists not to take him along in the landing party, a sliver of concern in his brown eyes that Jim doesn’t see, worry eating at him until Jim is back on board or he beams down himself to be at his captain’s side; Spock staying by Jim’s biobed in the medbay when he’s injured and unconscious, even though logic would dictate that he returned to the bridge and replaced Jim in the chair until he recovers—

There’s a version of himself that looks much handsome than Jim usually sees in the mirror, a silhouette surrounded in light, smiling at Spock brightly, clapping Spock’s shoulder and laughing, a lovely sound that Spock doesn’t ever get tired of hearing—

‘ _Spock… I had no idea…_ ’ is the only thing that Jim can think, seeing himself through Spock’s eyes. ‘ _Just let me show you…_ ’

And he pulls Spock into the one corner of his mind from where he assumes he can control the mixed whirl of images and emotions coming from both of them. He tries to focus on how he’s seen the things that Spock’s shown him.

A feeling of frustration mirroring Spock’s one from the beginning comes into focus at first, when Spock accuses him of cheating, him thinking, ‘ _Fuck, why does he have to be so hot_ ,’ as Spock stands up to face him at the trial and he sees the Vulcan for the very first time, and when he’s trying to convince Spock to turn back and face Nero—

Their attention shifts towards Jim’s inane excitement as he sees Spock’s application for the position of XO, knowing that this is the Vulcan’s way of acknowledging that they’d make a great team, respect and awe settling in his heart as he gets to know Spock for who he is—

There’s affection, as he realizes that what he’s feeling does not relate to friendship anymore, then sadness and pining as he has to hear Spock turn down offers of playing chess because he has dates with Uhura, as he admits that the two of them make a great couple and he’s an asshole for wanting Spock for himself when he clearly is the happiest he can be with Uhura—

He shows Spock how he was alone in his quarters every night, thinking that he would never get to show Spock the true extent of his love, a feeling of worthlessness plaguing him as he just knows that Spock will be forever out of his reach, superior, a dream of happiness he’s not supposed to have—

Spock envelops him once again in warmth and light, chasing away the phantom remnants of the bitter feelings and whispering something in Vulcan that reverberates through their meld.

Next, Spock sees the blurred images of Jim’s unsatisfying conquests, males and females that had his bondmate for one night, but were unable to distract him from the thought of Spock. Their touches do nothing but stir regret in Jim, after the rush of pleasure is gone, as he feels that he is betraying Spock, even though Spock isn’t _his_ —why can’t he have Spock? But he still needs that foreign caress and he closes his eyes, letting himself have the moment, the throes of passion and the raw, carnal need for it being enough—

The Vulcan growls at the images, chasing them away again. ‘ _Mine. Mine now, and no one else’s_.’ He floods the meld with burning affection and possessiveness and Jim shudders.

Jim then brings forward the scene in the reactor chamber, when he lies dying, scared and overwhelmed by everything, and he just wants to tell Spock why he went back for him in the volcano. But Spock quickly assumes it’s because he is the Vulcan’s friend, and he can’t find the strength in that moment to say that it’s because he _loves_ him, so he just uses his last breath to put his hand on the glass, in a desperate attempt to touch Spock, to let him know—

Jim chases away that memory himself, thrown back by its intensity. He never wants to feel such pain and loss again, and neither does Spock, because he feels that most of the emotions swirling as the memory played were his—

He sifts through memories of him telling Spock he’s not allowed on landing parties until he makes sure it’s safe; he’s writing countless message drafts on his PADD at night, only to erase them in the morning; he’s tackling Spock to the ground to protect him from phaser fire, arrows, bullets, and other alien projectiles, because he just knows that if Spock gets hurt, he won’t be able to live with himself—

Spock does the mental equivalent of a hug again and all of their memories wash away. Jim tries his best to return the gesture, controlling clumsily the fondness he feels. His attempt results in an echo of laughter coming from Spock’s projection in his mind, a breathtaking sound that Jim prays he will hear over and over again, accompanied by unadulterated joy. Jim bathes in the feeling, reflecting it. He’s never felt such happiness—he’s feeling his and Spock’s at the same time and it’s simply the sum of all the bliss, elation, delight, and relief they’ve ever felt in their entire lives.

The whirlwind of sensations starts to slow down, the meld becoming weaker and allowing them to tell their minds apart. Sighing, Jim lets go, and Spock distances himself, his projection fading. He opens his eyes, meeting Spock’s.

He expects that once Spock draws his fingers away from his face, his presence will disappear entirely. But it doesn’t. He can still feel Spock in his head, much less strongly than during the meld, but still noticeable. The connection still emanates affection.

‘ _Is this what I think it is?_ ’ Jim tries, testing the bond.

‘ _Indeed. Does it cause you discomfort or displeasure?_ ’ Spock asks and Jim is staring at him in awe because he clearly heard his voice and the Vulcan didn’t open his mouth.

‘ _No, no way, this is_ awesome,’ Jim smiles brightly. ‘ _We’re like Vulcan married now, right? You’re my husband?_ ’

‘ _Yours, for the rest of my existence._ ’

‘ _Okay, you need to stop saying things like that, it’s making me want to just…_ ’ and he sends a lot of suggestive images along with the thought. ‘ _Wait_ , _I wonder if_ —‘ he brings his head close to Spock’s and kisses him soundly, while still using the telepathic feature of the bond,  ‘— _oh my god, it works, okay, this is the best thing ever_.’

Spock pushes him down on the mattress and kisses Jim with a passion that ignites both of their insides. ‘ _I can talk to my husband_ and _kiss him at the same time? You Vulcans know what you’re doing with those bonds of yours, this is so goddamn awesome._ ’

‘ _Jim, Vulcans do not kiss with their mouths, therefore my species are able to engage in intimate acts of affection while communicating verbally if required._ ’

‘ _Ah, yes, true. Your bondmate is human, however, and he greatly appreciates this feature,_ ’ Jim tells him and shows him just how much by pulling Spock closer and doing a particular thing with his lips and tongue that makes Spock moan lightly.

‘ _Your approval of the bond satisfies me._ ’

‘ _Good. It won’t be the only thing that will satisfy you tonight.’_

The stream of adoration, longing, and pure want coming from Jim’s side of the bond, along with that one thought, makes Spock stop the kiss to stare at his bondmate, eyes wide in astonishment. Jim smirks from underneath him and in one quick move he reverses their positions, taking advantage of Spock’s stunned state. He straddles the Vulcan’s hips and bites his lips, watching a deep blush color Spock’s cheeks.

‘ _James Kirk, you never cease to amaze me,’_ Spock tells him through the bond.

‘ _Hmm, I do try my best_ ,’ Jim smugly thinks, splaying his palms over Spock’s chest.

Spock’s hands find the hem of his shirt and he begins to pull it up over Jim’s head. Jim eagerly helps him remove the piece of clothing, then bends down to press a kiss to the Vulcan’s lips. Spock’s hands roam over his chest, electricity present in every touch.

‘ _I believe Terran tradition dictates that the marriage’s consummation is to take place the night of the wedding._ ’

‘ _You’re right, Mr. Spock. As any newlyweds, we must partake in this tradition,_ ’ Jim declares, on a playful tone, initiating an open-mouthed kiss that leaves them breathless. ‘ _But hey, I still want a Terran ceremony when we get back to Earth.’_

‘ _As you wish. Does this imply that another wedding night is be celebrated appropriately?’_

 _‘Obviously, but I have a feeling that any other night I’ll spend with you will be like a wedding night. Let’s focus on this one first, though.’_ He pulls at the string tying the top of Spock’s tunic, drinking in the sight of it unraveling.

It goes over Spock’s head soon enough, when they find the time to interrupt another heated kiss. Jim marvels at the exposed skin, running his fingers over Spock’s well-defined muscles. ‘ _You’re gorgeous_ ,’ he thinks as he starts pressing kisses to the newly-discovered portions of skin.

Spock streams potent feelings of lust down the bond and Jim almost stops in shock at their intensity, realizing that he’s the one causing such a reaction. Locking one hand in Spock’s silky locks and keeping the other one the Vulcan’s abdomen, right above his heart, he pulls Spock in another ardent, thorough kiss.

‘ _I find you exceedingly desirable as well.’_

The Vulcan whimpers in his mouth as his thought is rewarded with a soft roll of Jim’s hips into his, making their crotches brush together. Spock opens his legs more, without even meaning to, and Jim grinds against him again, eliciting moans from both of them.

“ _Fuck_ , Spock,” Jim finds himself saying out loud, rolling his hips more roughly. ‘ _You feel so good._ ’

The use of the bond sends satisfaction his way and Jim feels Spock’s hips bucking against his, meeting his moves. Their thrusts start to turn frantic and insistent and Jim knows he won’t resist much longer if they keep this up. He doesn’t want their first time to be just the two of them rutting against each other, like two teenagers who come in their pants. And yet he feels like there’s just no time to do anything properly.

He slides off Spock with one last thrust, the Vulcan whining at the loss of the weight on him. He unzips Spock’s slacks with urgency, revealing a bulge in the Starfleet issue underwear that he eyes intently.

‘ _Jim, do not feel obligated to—’_

 _‘No, I want this. I wanna make you feel good_ ,’ Jim tells him and starts kissing Spock’s thighs, his hips, working his way up to mouth at the material, while breathing in the strong musky scent of Spock’s arousal.

Spock moans, the deep sound rumbling in his chest, and brings his hand to rest in Jim’s hair. He throws his head back and Jim removes his underwear, stopping for one second to admire what he’s just uncovered before taking Spock into his mouth.

Spock grips at the sheets as Jim’s tongue and lips nip and suck diligently, gasping and groaning throatily. He jerks his hips, wanting more. Jim places his hands on them, keeping him still as he picks up the pace. He lets himself guided by the divine sounds Spock makes, learning what the Vulcan likes. There’s praise, adoration, and need flowing down the bond, and Jim basks in it as Spock’s moans become louder.

‘ _Jim, I will not_ —’

‘ _It’s all right, let me take care of you_ ,’ Jim encourages him, continuing his ministrations and enjoying himself, as he can feel Spock’s pleasure coursing strongly though the bond.

Spock comes with a sharp cry in Jim’s mouth, the bond allowing Jim to experience the numbing white flash of pleasure that leaves Spock breathing heavily, eyes closed and mouth open. Jim lifts up his head to take in the beautiful sight of his wrecked bondmate, ignoring the aching hardness in his own pants.

Spock praises him through the bond with an unintelligible mix of powerful emotions and Vulcan words that Jim can’t understand. He slowly comes back to his senses, the rush of pleasure fading. Jim soon finds himself pinned under the Vulcan in the blink of an eye, the mattress squeaking at the unexpected move. Spock eyes him hungrily, pupils blown wide as he reaches down to pull down Jim’s pants and underwear, almost ripping them to shreds in his haste.

‘ _Spock, you don’t have to_ ,’ Jim tells him.

‘ _You are still capable of coherent thought processing. This will not do_ ,’ Spock sends down the bond with determination.

Jim looks at him, eyes wide and lips swollen. The Vulcan bends down to kiss him feverishly, and joins his hand with Jim’s in an electrified Vulcan kiss. Spock then takes him in his other hand, and Jim throws his head back, groaning, as the Vulcan gives him a tentative pump. Jim rolls his hips in the air, looking for more, and he whines when Spock’s hand stops moving.

‘ _Spock—more_ ,’ Jim begs. ‘ _Please, I need_ —’

The Vulcan obliges, stroking him again in one long motion that sends Jim writhing. He smothers Jim’s moans with his mouth, his kisses plucking the life out of Jim. He starts worshipping the skin of Jim’s neck, not unlike Jim did earlier, sucking and biting lightly. Jim knows that he’s going to leave hickeys and the thought only arouses him more. Spock pulls back and continues to move his hand slowly, driving Jim insane.

Jim would never have thought that Spock would be one to dedicate himself so ardently to his partner. He wonders why Spock’s so set on torturing him with languid strokes, though, and he opens his eyes to gaze at his bondmate. Spock is raptly watching his own movements with darkened eyes.

Jim then remembers the sensitivity of Spock’s fingers and he grins. The pads of Spock’s fingers drag themselves on his skin, creating tickling, teasing sparks. ‘ _Enjoying yourself, are you?_ ’ he asks, gasping as he sends the thought through the bond.

Spock blushes deeply, and eyes Jim apologetically. ‘ _Indeed_.’ He then proceeds to pick up the pace, making Jim moan lowly. Jim jerks his hips in desperate attempts to meet his thrusts, dragging Spock down in another kiss.

He comes soon enough, Spock’s urgent pumps driving him over the edge. Spock’s mouth on his stifles Jim’s cries as he experiences the most intense release in his life. His mind blacks out for a moment, and he only feels Spock’s overwhelming presence in his head, both of them drowning in pleasure, sharing the intensity. He bites on Spock’s lips as he slowly comes back from his high, trembling.

He feels that Spock’s removing his weight from above him and he whimpers at the loss. Spock returns seconds later, with a wet towel that he uses to gently clean up the mess on Jim’s stomach. His caring touch makes Jim sigh as he lies inertly, happily, still recovering. Spock then gathers their discarded clothes from the bed and the floor, placing them on the chair, only to return to bed as soon as he’s done. He covers the both of them with a thin, soft blanket, ordering the computer to lower the temperature, knowing that Jim will keep him warm.

Jim follows his thoughts, amazed by the bond and its power. ‘ _Did this just get stronger?_ ’ he asks Spock, certain that he wasn’t able to hear Spock this clearly before.

‘ _I believe so. It is only logical for the bond to become stronger, as we have just consummated it_.’

‘ _Good,_ ’ Jim tells him, sending all the fondness he can through the bond. ‘ _You were amazing. You_ are _amazing._ ’

Spock spoons him from behind, placing his arm protectively around Jim’s waist. ‘ _I find that I am unable to find a proper adjective that would characterize the events that have transpired._ ’

Jim chuckles and puts his hand over his, entwining their fingers, the touch reinforcing the bond. They settle in the cuddle, locking their legs together, Spock’s chest covering Jim’s back. Their bodies fit perfectly together, naked skin touching naked skin, contentment flowing through the both of them. The Vulcan nuzzles Jim’s hair, breathing in quietly.

“I love you,” Jim murmurs, both aloud and through the bond. He turns his head to meet Spock’s lips in a soft kiss.

“And I love you,” Spock says against his lips, brushing their noses together.

The exchange of love and affection floating back and forth through their open connection lulls them to sleep.

 

* * *

 

He makes his way to the medbay, a spring in his step. It’s been a week since he and Spock got together—and Vulcan-married each other—and he couldn’t be happier. The two of them shared the news with their Alpha shift senior crew earlier today, and they had a small get-together in the rec room. Everything’s been running smoothly ever since they bonded: Spock treats him with protectiveness and, to Jim’s surprise, he’s comfortable sharing discreet Vulcan kisses in public, their friends have shown support and offered them congratulations, their comms with HQ are going well, and their last mission was successful. Life’s never been better.

Leonard and Spock are waiting for him in the medbay, as kind of an after-party just between the three of them. Just as he steps in the turbolift, there’s a voice stopping him.

“Kirk, hold up!”

He turns around to see Uhura hurrying in his direction. He’s seen her earlier today, at the get-together, where he noticed she’d cheerfully raised a glass to him and Spock. He stops the turbolift doors from closing, waiting for her.

‘ _Is everything in order_ , ashayam?’ Spock asks him through the bond, sensing that something bothered his bondmate.

‘ _Yeah. I’m on my way,’_ he says back, along with a burst of love and warmth, only to receive back what he sends.

Uhura steps in next to him, closes the doors and then presses the emergency button, stopping the turbolift from taking off.

“Hey. I owe you an apology,” she begins, sincerely.

“No, Uhura, it’s fine—” he tries to stop her.

“I still feel awful for what I said and did. I shouldn’t have meddled, it was none of my business. I’m really sorry and I hope the two of you aren’t too upset with me," she continues quickly, ignoring Jim.

“Nah, we’re not upset. We’re thankful, really. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have talked and he’d probably still avoid me. You did what you thought was right,” he assures her.

She smiles at him genuinely. “Ah, I’m relieved, then. I’m really happy for you guys. I didn’t see this coming, honestly, even though there were some things on the way that should’ve tipped me off.”

“Like your boyfriend spending a lot of time playing chess with his best friend? Or the two of us bickering constantly like an old married couple, hearts occasionally popping out of our eyes?”

“Yeah, like that,” she laughs.

Silence settles between the two of them and Jim gets the turbolift in motion.

”Don’t worry, Uhura, neither of us is holding any grudges, believe us." He touches her shoulder lightly, smiling at her. "No hard feelings on your part?”

“None whatsoever," she says warmly, with a firm shake of her head. "I’ll talk to Spock too, for good measure. Thanks, Kirk."

Jim notes that she's looking truly grateful. “No problem. Wanna hang out in the rec room tomorrow after the shift?” he asks.

“Sure,” she nods, grinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night,” she says, exiting the turbolift on the thirteenth deck, where her quarters are.

“’Night,” he says back, glad he’s patched things up with her.

The turbolift stops on the deck of the medbay and he hurries along, knowing that his friend and his bondmate are waiting for him. He finds the both of them in Leonard’s office, the Georgian doctor with a glass of fine scotch in his hand and Spock enjoying a cold glass of Vulcan tea. He joins both of them at the desk, Spock extending two fingers to greet him affectionately.

“You guys are gross,” Leonard says. “Can’t believe the two of you just eloped like that, Christ.”

“Shut up, Bones, and be happy for us,” Jim says, meeting Spock’s fingers with his own in a loving touch that makes the bond sing.

“I never said I ain’t happy for you. Would’ve been happier if I made some money out of it too. There was a betting pool goin’ around the bridge crew, since the start of the mission, as to when the two of you would do the nasty and finally get together. Thought it was the biggest bullshit Sulu and Chekov have ever come up with, so I placed my best credits on ‘never, no way in hell’. You would’ve made me real rich if you’d waited for the _Enterprise_ to get decommissioned, the pool would’ve ended by then.”

Jim huffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Bones. We don’t plan on having this lady decommissioned anytime soon, and I can't imagine having to wait for Spock that long,” he states, looking at his bondmate lovingly.

“It is an unfathomable thought, indeed,” Spock simply says, the slightest of smiles on his lips, so subtle that Leonard doesn’t even notice it.

“Anyway, next time we’re on shore leave, ask Chekov to take you out for a couple of drinks, he made a lot of money thanks to you. He’s the only one who bet on you gettin’ together three years into the mission. Want some scotch?” Leonard asks Jim.

“Nope, not tonight. Alcohol makes the bond blurry,” Jim says quickly, remembering two nights ago how he drank a glass or two and panicked because he couldn’t feel Spock properly. It doesn’t mean he won’t drink again, but he wants Spock by his side when he does, so he knows his bondmate is safe. This bond is becoming more and more precious to him. And tonight, he wants to clearly feel their connection. He’s got a surprise prepared in his room and he can’t wait to drag Spock to bed.

“Good God, you’re giving up alcohol for your man? Marriage is changin’ you, Jim,” Leonard tuts. Jim knows he’s not serious, though.

Spock follows the exchange with interest, sipping elegantly from his glass of tea.

“Bite me, Bones,” Jim sticks his tongue out at the doctor and Spock narrows his eyes milimetrically.

“Jim, before you arrived, I believe the good doctor and I were discussing the possible reactions of Starfleet Head Quarters once they are notified of our relationship,” Spock changes the subject. “As I am the only Vulcan serving on board of a starship, the ethical code of conduct does not specify anything related to bonded Vulcans and their bondmates, while regulation does allow Terran married couples to serve on the same vessel, regardless of their respective ranks. However, Jim, considering that a bond involves emotional compromise and provided that we both have attained positions of authority, they might not allow us to serve together on the _Enterprise_.”

Jim is familiar with the issue. He’s sensed Spock’s mind pondering over it. He’s never said anything about it, though, and waited for Spock to bring it up. He knows that informing HQ about their new status is inevitable, now that they’ve shared the news with their crew as well.

Leonard shakes his head. He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Eh, who cares about those stuck-up bastards? Do you really think the ‘Fleet would split their best command team just because they’d a bit emotionally compromised because of each other? Nonsense. After you’ve taken down Nero, Khan, and Krall for them, and after everything you’ve been through together, hell, I think they’d have you dissected if you didn’t show signs of emotional compromise. You’re gonna become the Federation’s sweetheart couple. They wouldn’t dare separate you.”

Jim leans back in his chair, smiling. “Aww, Bones, that’s so sweet of you to say. I think he’s right, what about you, Spock?”

“I incline to believe that Leonard’s words might indeed reflect the truth.”

Jim grins brightly. He leans forward to take Spock’s cheeks in his hands, pressing lightly. He then kisses Spock’s wrinkled nose and puckered lips. The Vulcan just stays still, wide-eyed.

“You’re truly disgusting, has anyone told you that yet?” Leonard groans at the sickeningly adorable display.

Jim just laughs, and lets go of Spock’s cheeks, revealing an endearing green blush. “All right. But we won’t tell them just yet. I don’t wanna risk anything and I trust the crew not to mention anything. We’ll make it public when we dock at the end of the mission, so we can get married on Earth too. Until then, we just have to pretend we’re not ‘emotionally compromised’.”

Spock straightens his posture. “Very well.” His fingers meet Jim’s underneath the desk.

“Honestly, I think you were more compromised when you weren’t together. Jim, you were just miserable and I know you weren’t ready for any rodeo either, Spock. This is seriously going to improve pretty much everything, your physical and mental health, all that. ” Leonard tells him. “Can’t wait to have you over at the next evaluation.” The doctor winks, sipping from his drink.

Jim rolls his eyes and he exchanges a discreet smile with Spock.

They continue chatting about less serious topics, Jim and Spock not letting go of each other’s hand. They end up getting Leonard drunk, and the doctor sheds a few happy tears as he admits he’s truly proud of them for finding happiness in each other. Jim ushers him to bed, realizing that this puts an end to their evening.

It’s still early in the night, and he grabs Spock’s hand and drags him towards the turbolift, pecking his lips softly as they wait to arrive on their deck. They stumble in the direction of Jim’s room, stealing as many kisses and touches as they can from each other.

‘ _I love you,_ ’ Spock says sincerely through the bond, when they stop for Jim to scan his thumb and open the door. Jim soaks in all the warmth and light that Spock sends flowing in his mind.

‘ _I love you too, and you know just how much,_ ’ he responds, flooding the bond with as much of his affection, adoration, and love as he can muster.

They step in the room, bringing their bodies together in a tender embrace, no longer lost, and knowing that they’ll always have each other, no matter what happens.

The door closes behind them, as the _Enterprise-A_ thrums past bright stars, boldly going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it! Please feel free to drop a line below in the comments, and don't forget to click on the 'kudos' button if you enjoyed it!


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